Meeting Meghan
by mysweetcupcake
Summary: A series of one shots told from Ash's POV from the Iron King up to Iron's Prophecy all chosen by you. Now you finally get to hear Ash's thoughts on some of the key moments from the books.
1. The Memory

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the dialogue - they belong to the wonderful Julie Kagawa. I'm just playing with them a little bit ;)**

* * *

 **The Memory**

The Voodoo Museum looks like it's been abandoned for at least twenty years. The windows are covered with dust and in the dim gloom you can just make out a CLOSED sign on the door. Puck mutters a few words and taps on the door, opening it with a soft creak. It's uncomfortably warm inside, at least for me. I really don't understand how Summer fey can stand the heat in Arcadia as they do. As we step inside, Meghan trips over a bump in the carpet, falling into me and I steady her with a sigh. Puck closes the door behind us, encasing the entire room in darkness. In order to avoid a repeat of what's just happened with Meghan I mumble under my breath and a globe of blue fire appears over my head, bathing us all in a cool blue glow. At least the human won't break her neck walking in the dark. It also illuminated the collection of...questionable objects on a shelf in the corner. Skeletons and skulls and preserving jars - all pretty common place in the Unseelie Court if you know where to look, but I can almost taste the horror roiling off Meghan as she stares at it. She really has no experience at all.

"This way," Grimalkin says, his voice loud in the silence. We all follow him down a hall and I catch Meghan constantly gazing around her surroundings in an almost horror like awe - humans do like to scare themselves to death. I keep my gaze firmly on the cats bushy tail, which is no mean feat in the darkness, and try not to keep watching Meghan. She may be beautiful but she has no place in the Nevernever; let alone with me. She's become a naïve pawn in the Courts eyes, something that would never happen in Tir Na Nog. Emotions are a weakness and Meghan Chase is a prime example of why. If she had just left her brother to whatever fate awaits him, she would still be safe in the human world. There would be no contracts, no sidelong glances and absolutely no grudging admiration for the half human who, despite everything, has survived incredibly well thus far all things considering. There would definitely be none of that. If I didn't have enough reasons to curse humans before she appeared, there are at least twenty more added to the list now.

By this time, we've approached a table covered in a black table cloth. With centuries of practise looking for enemies hidden in places you wouldn't expect, I manage to pick out the ghostly face just before she moves and scares Meghan half to death.

"Hello children," she whispers, her voice croaking. "Come to visit Old Anna, have you? Puck is here, and Grimalkin, as well. What a pleasure." _What am I chopped liver?_ I muse as we all take a seat at the table. The witch smiles at Meghan, baring her thin, yellow teeth and I can tell Meghan is terrified and I'm positive the witch does too. _Is there any need for this?_ I wonder before mentally slapping myself. I don't need to concern myself with things like that - all I need to do is help her find her brother and then get her to Tir Na Nog alive. That's all. Mab didn't say anything about her being slightly psychologically damaged and besides, maybe this will help her. Show her she'll have to be constantly alert when she reaches the Winter Court. "I smell need," the hag continues, snapping me from my daze. "Need and desire. You, child. You have come seeking knowledge. You search for something that must be found, yes?"

"Yes," Meghan whispers back, sounding completely overwhelmed with the situation. The hag nods, her intel confirmed.

"Ask, then, child of two worlds. But remember..." She stares at Meghan hollowly, "all knowledge must be paid for. I will give you the answers you seek, but I desire something in return. Will you accept the price?" Meghan sighs quietly, a defeated gaze on her face.

"I don't have much left to give," she says and I feel sorry for her. I can't imagine having grown up free of fey politics and bargains. It must be...confusing...to come into this world and be forced into deals and bargains that could potentially cost your life. The hag laughs like a snake. It's...disturbing to say the least.

"There is always something, dear child. So far, only your freedom has been claimed by another. You still have your youth, your talents, your voice. Your future child. All these are of interest to me."

"You're not getting my future child," Meghan says straight away and I hide a smile. She knows something of fey bargains then. The firstborn child is commonly used and commonly accepted. And always regretted by the desperate.

"Really? You will not give it up, even though it will bring you nothing but grief?" I roll my eyes.

"Enough," I say impatiently. "We're not here to debate the what-ifs of the future. Name your price oracle, and let the girl decide if she wants to pay it." The oracle sniffs at me but settles back, giving us all some breathing room.

"A memory," she announces.

"A what?" Meghan asks and I roll my eyes again. I know for a fact she's not that stupid.

"A memory," the oracle repeats. "One that you recall with great affection. The happiest memory of your childhood. I've precious few of my own, you see."

"Really? That's it? You just want one of my memories, and we have a deal?" I wince slightly at the naivety. She doesn't understand - no one can. While this procedure has never been done to me specifically, I have seen it done before and it's definitely not pleasant.

"Meghan-" Puck interrupts, obviously having realised the same thing that I have. "Don't take this so lightly. Your memories are a part of you. Losing one of your memories is like losing a piece of your soul." I do have to give Goodfellow credit, it seems like a pretty accurate description of the process. Meghan considers it for a moment.

"All right," she says and I share a look with Puck. "You're on. You get one memory of mine, one, and then you tell me what I want to know. Deal?" The hag grins.

"Yesssssssss." She stands and leans over the table, resting her claw like hands on Meghan's face, making Meghan shiver.

"This might feel a bit...unpleasant," the oracle hisses. Meghan gasps suddenly, making both me and Goodfellow tense. Meghan's face screws up with pain and Puck hovers near her. I know he's desperate to change this - to stop it from happening. "Yesssssss," the oracle hisses again. "I will take this one. Now it is mine." Meghan stiffens before slumping dramatically in her chair as the oracle withdraws her hands. She sits up, wincing a little. The oracle smiles smugly over the table as Puck murmurs things in Meghan's ear to make her feel better. Not even I can stop myself from shooting her a sympathetic glance. I don't think I could give up my happiest memory so easily - not when it's likely to include Ariella. It's extraordinarily brave of her in my eyes to give up something so important to her. "It is done," the oracle drones. "And now I will uphold my end of the bargain. Place your hands in mine, child, and ask." Meghan swallows and shakily places her hands into the oracles. "Three questions," she rasps. "That is the standard bargain. Three questions I will answer, and I am done. Choose wisely." Meghan takes a deep breath and looks over at us, prompting Puck to nod at her reassuringly.

"Where can I find my brother?" She asks. There is silence for a moment - just long enough to make me question whether the oracle can actually tell us what we need to know.

"Within the iron mountain  
a stolen child waits.  
A king no longer on his throne  
shall guide you past the gates."

"Oh, fabulous. I love riddles. And they rhyme so nicely," Puck mutters. Then, a little louder so Meghan can hear him better, "ask her where we can find the Iron King." She nods and repeats the question.

"In Blight's heart  
a tower sings  
upon whose thrones  
sit Iron Kings."

"Blight," Puck says, arching his eyebrows. "And singing towers. Well, this gets better and better. I'm sure glad we decided to come here. Prince, can you think of anything you want to ask our most obliging oracle?" I pause for a moment, thinking carefully. Unlike Goodfellow who is prone to rushing things and not thinking plans through the whole way, I prefer to know the outcome of plans. This is our last question, so I have to make it count. I raise my head from where it's been resting on my hands.

"Ask her how we can kill him," I tell her. She wriggle uncomfortably in her seat, although I'm not sure whether it's because of what I'm asking her to do or because I'm telling her to do something.

"Ash-" She says.

"Just do it," I tell her sternly. She swallows again.

"How do we kill the Iron King?" She whispers. I lean forward to hear the answer, knowing deep down that this will be my job. Neither Goodfellow or the Princess will be up to the task.

"The King of Iron cannot be slain  
by mortal man or fey.  
Seek out the Keepers of the trees.  
Their hearts will show the way."

And with that, the oracle collapses onto the table, laying there for a moment before disintegrating into dust. Meghan coughs and it's only through quick reflexes that I manage to clamp my mouth and eyes shut against the dust storm. When the dust settles, it reveals that the oracle has indeed gone, leaving us alone in the empty museum. If that's not an opening for one of Puck's infamous pranks then I don't know what is. With that disturbing thought, I can't wait to get out of here.

"I believe that our audience is over," Grimalkin announces, peering over the table before jumping down and heading back towards the door. "Well," he says, stopping to peer over his shoulder at the three of us still sat round the table, staring the at the dust of the oracle. "Are you coming or not?"

* * *

 **So here it is - finally - the first chapter of 'Meeting Meghan'. The collection of one shots from Ash's POV throughout the Iron fey series. Each chapter will be done in the order of the books, so all the Iron King chapters will be first - so if there's a section you want to see from the Iron King then let me know. Obviously, if I get to Book 3 and someone wants a chapter from Book 2 then I'll do it but for now, there should be an order to things. Let me know what you think, I hope I did Ash justice, and let me know what other sections you want to hear from Ash's POV. See you guys soon xxx**


	2. Shots Fired

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the dialogue - they belong to the wonderful Julie Kagawa. I'm just playing with them a little bit ;)**

* * *

 **Shots Fired**

We run as fast as we can away from the humans pursuing us. Despite what Meghan has told me, I keep my hand on the hilt of my sword as we run. She's too human herself to fully understand that these humans won't stop. They will kill us if necessary. To the side of me, I hear Meghan yelp as she trips and I automatically reach out to grab her, pulling her upright. I can't help but mutter,

"This is ridiculous. Running from a mob, a human mob. I could take them out with a sweep of my hand." It's true after all. Meghan might not like hearing it, but not even she can deny the truth in those words.

"Perhaps you didn't see the copious amounts of iron they're carrying," Puck says. Unfortunately, his words are true as well, as much as it pains me to admit it. He ducks a little as a knife is hurled in his direction and there is a small part of me - extremely small mind - that winces a little at how close that knife actually was. A little closer and Puck could have been hit. He's lucky a human threw it. A human with little skill in aim at the best of times. "Of course," he continues, jarring me from my thoughts, "if you want to make a suicide stand, I certainly won't stop you. Though, I'd be disappointed you wouldn't be there for our last duel." And with that, any compassion I had for Goodfellow at all disappears completely.

"Scared, Goodfellow?" I ask, throwing a smirk in his direction, knowing full well that he's not but that implying that he is will get on his nerves.

"In your dreams, princeling." I roll my eyes, dodging a couple of weapons hurled at my head. I still have a hold of Meghan's arm; practically dragging her along, and it must be a sign of how scared she is that she isn't complaining about it. In the short time I've known her, I know she likes to prove she can do things by herself. For her to not comment on me essentially dragging her along behind me is a sign of how far out of her comfort zone she actually is. Out of nowhere, a pipe is hurled and hits Puck in the shoulder, making him gasp and lose his footing. He barely manages to catch himself from falling to the ground in pain and Meghan cries his name. I remember the pain I felt when the iron horse struck me before and again, that little worm of sympathy wriggles in. This time, I clamp down on it, knowing that if our roles were reversed, Goodfellow wouldn't feel it for me. What sounds like a swarm of insects buzzing round my head echoes off the buildings and I follow Meghan's gaze to see Virus laughing as she hovers over the crowd of humans.

"You can run little faery boys, but you can't hide," she calls out over the noise. "There are humans everywhere and all can be my puppets. If you stop now and hand over the girl, I'll even let you choose how you want to die." My hand itches over the hilt of my sword as I snarl at her words. Not only is she threatening me, which is incredibly stupid, she called me _little._ Me and Goodfellow are a lot of things but _little_ is definitely not one of them. In a split second decision, I push Meghan forward before spinning to face the crowd fully, hurling ice shards at Virus as I do. Just before they hit their mark though, one of her humans jumps forward, getting speared in the process. I watch coldly as he falls to the floor twitching.

"Oh, nice going, prince," Puck calls, still clutching his shoulder as Virus hisses at the scene above us. "Way to piss her off." Before I can answer, Meghan jumps in.

"You killed him!" She says and I know she's horrified. Admittedly, I wasn't aiming for the human but how is it my fault that he decided to save his mistress? "You just killed a person and it wasn't even his fault!" I turn and take her arm again, pulling her around the corner. She's going to have to learn fast that this is the way of the fey if she's going to survive in the Unseelie Court.

"There are casualties in every war," I tell her, my voice like ice even to my own ears. "He would have killed us if he could. One less soldier to worry about." I hope that this will satisfy her, at least for now. Maybe teach her something useful. Of course, that doesn't happen, because that would just be too easy.

"This isn't a war!" She yells, surprising me. "And it's different when the humans don't even know what's happening. They're only after us because some crazy faery is screwing with their heads!" That sympathy that appeared for Goodfellow intensifies, much to my surprise. I can't imagine what this must be like for her. Being told you're not entirely human and then learning that a wayward King is after you can't be easy and, to her credit, she's handled everything extremely well. This must be the product of all of that stress I reason. Despite this though, I keep my cool tone with her, simply saying;

"Either way, we'd still be dead."

"No more killing," she tells me as we run through the quiet streets. "Do you hear me Ash? Find another way to stop them. You don't have to kill." _You have no idea_ I think to myself. When I made that contract with her, I had no idea it would be this difficult. I thought we'd just find her brother and then I'd take her home. My combat skills never even came into the equation at that point. I glare at her in irritation and sigh. If it will keep her happy...

"As you wish Princess. Though you might regret it before the night is out." The stubbornness in her eyes tells me that she won't, no matter what I say and I can't help but admire her for sticking to her beliefs, no matter how stupid they might be. We end up in a brightly lit square, and, despite Meghan relaxing a little, I remain on alert. Just because there are lights here, doesn't mean Virus won't attack. Hell, she's got the majority of the humans here under her control - no one is going to stop her. I slow down, catching Meghan's hand to stop her from ploughing into the humans here. "Walk," I murmur. "Don't run, it'll attract their attention." Our best bet at this point is to try and blend in and hope Virus doesn't spot us. We walk forward through the crowds, Meghan never letting go of my hand. Despite myself, this calms me slightly, knowing that she's okay and here, and I refuse to look into _that_ anymore than I should. Virus floats up over the square and I bite down a curse. Then, to make matters worse, Meghan suddenly breaks away from me, running over to a policeman. This time, I can't stop the curse from coming out of my lips. I turn to follow her when Virus' laughter floats through the square,

"I see you," she calls. I can't hear what Meghan says to the officer, but I can't miss the look of horror that crosses her face when he turns to face her. He lunges forward, grabbing for her and my stomach drops as I watch, knowing that I'm too far away to help her. She kicks out but he doesn't let go, instead reaching round her to grab her other wrist. The other humans in the square all lurch forward and I lose sight of Meghan for a moment as I push through the crowds desperate to reach her. By the time I get there the humans are grabbing at her hair and clothes but she's managing to land a few hits. I smash the hilt of my sword into the officers jaw, knocking him backwards. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Puck grab Meghan and pull her away from the mass. I follow them, knowing I'm outnumbered. Not even I can take all of them.

"There!" Grimalkin says, popping up beside us, looking unexpectedly ruffled by the events. "Dead ahead! A carriage. Use it, quickly." The cat's right. Directly in front of us is an unattended carriage. As we race across the street towards it, a gunshot rings out. Puck jerks and crashes to the ground, crying out. Meghan screams and, without thinking, I haul him upright and forcing him to move forward. Despite our differences, it still pains me to see my former best friend in this much pain. Not that I'd ever admit that to him. Let him think I'm doing it for Meghan's sake. I drag him along behind me, my eyes fixed on the carriage. The horse rears as another gunshot rings out, making both me and Meghan wince. She grabs the bridle as I shove Puck into the carriage before jumping into the drivers seat. Meghan scrambles after Puck as Grimalkin appears next to me. I grab the reins and take barely enough time to yell

"Hold on!" To Meghan before bringing the reins down on the horse's flanks hard, spurring it forward. We race through a red light and around cars and for a few minutes, the only sound is the sound of cars beeping and humans cursing as we fly past.

"Ash! Puck's not moving!" Meghan cries and without even turning around I know she's on the verge of tears. I want to talk to her, to tell her that this is Robin Goodfellow and he's bounced back from worse, but I can't. I have to focus on not crashing this damn carriage and killing us all. Grimalkin disappears from next to me and I can hear them murmuring in the back before he jumps back up next to me.

"The park," he says, calmly. The fear in his eyes from earlier, no longer present. "We take him to the park. The dryads should be able to help him."

 _"Should?_ What if they can't?" Meghan asks.

"Then, human, I would start praying for a miracle."

I didn't stop when we hit the park, knowing that I'd be the one dragging Goodfellow to where he can get help. Instead, I stop under the boughs of two old oak trees, before jumping down and heading to the carriage. I kneel beside Meghan before throwing Puck over my shoulder and jumped back down again. I carry him to where the two trees meet before setting him down on the grass. If anyone had asked me, I'd have said the gentleness was for Meghan's benefit - and it was - but a small part of it was also for me. I step back to where Meghan has stopped and we wait. Two figures step out of the tree trunks and I nod respectfully at them as they draw closer.

"We know why you have come," one of the dryads says quietly. "The breeze carries whispers to us, news of faraway places. We know of your plight with the Iron King. We have been waiting for you, child of two worlds."

"Please," Meghan says stepping forward, her voice taunt with worry. A small spark of something flickers in my chest as an unspoken thought bounces around my head. _Would she be this worried about me if I'd been shot?"_ I brush the thought away angrily. "Can you help Puck?" She continues. "He was shot on the way here. I'll bargain with you, give you anything you want, if you can save him." I shoot her a look at that. Hasn't she learnt by now, not to offer deals like that when any fey could be listening in to take advantage? Honestly, she's not going to last two minutes in Tir Na Nog.

"We will not bargain with you child," the second dryad says calmly. "It is not our way. We are not like the sidhe, or the cait sith, seeking endless ways to empower ourselves. We simply are."

"As a favor then," Meghan begs. "Please, he'll die if you don't help him." _Yes and we can't have that now, can we?"_ I think bitterly.

"Death is a part of life. All things fade eventually, even one as long-lived as Puck. People will forget his stories, forget he ever was, and he will cease to be. It is the way of things." I wince a little at the reminder. And the memory of the time Puck made everyone forget us - that was not a pleasant experience. A rush of power draws me out of that particular memory and I look up in surprise. I'm not using any glamour and I'm not sure if the cat has any so that must mean...I take a step back from Meghan, warily.

"She is strong," one dryad whispers. _Yeah, no kidding._

"Her power sleeps. The trees hear her, the earth answers her call." The other replies.

"Perhaps it will be enough." They both nod and one grabs Puck around the waist, dragging him backwards before they both disappear into the tree.

"What are you doing?" Meghan asks.

"Do not worry. We cannot heal him, but we can halt the damage. Puck will sleep until he is well enough to rejoin you. Whether that takes a night or several years will be entirely up to him." The dryad tilts her head, seeming to size Meghan up which makes me uncomfortable; despite knowing they won't hurt us. "You and your companions may stay here tonight. It is safe. Within these boundaries, the iron fey will not venture. Our power over tree and land keeps them out. Rest, and we will call for you when it is time." With that, she melts back into the tree, leaving us staring at bark like idiots.

* * *

 **I was going to include the next bit of this chapter here as well, when Ash saves Meghan from the goblins, but it would be insanely long for a one-shot so I was thinking about making it the next instalment? What do you guys think? Do you want to hear it? Let me know what you thought guys xxx**


	3. Chillsorrow Manor

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the dialogue - they belong to the wonderful Julie Kagawa. I'm just playing with them a little bit ;)**

* * *

 **Chillsorrow Manor**

We walk in silence, though I can feel Goodfellow's glares penetrating my back with every step. I keep an eye on the girl as we walk along - when I promised Mab I would bring her back to the Unseelie Court, I never imagined my trip would become so...interesting. _Oberon's daughter is certainly living up to the hype_ I muse as we crunch through the snow. Every so often, I catch her watching me, concern filling her blue eyes, which takes me by surprise. She's worried about me. About my injury (which admittedly does hurt like hell). I entertain the idea that she's just worried that I won't be able to keep my end of the contract but almost as soon as the thought enters my head I dismiss it. She's too human - driven by her emotions. She is genuinely concerned about me. It's been so long since anyone was worried about me - not since Ariella...

I cut that thought off right there. She's from Summer, and Goodfellow is obviously head over heels for her, even if she doesn't see it. I learnt my lesson the last time - never get Goodfellow involved in relationships. It doesn't end well for anyone. With my resolve strengthened, I push on ahead, despite the throbbing pain coming from my chest. I can't be around her for too long, that much is certain. Not with how similar she is to Ariella. If Puck wants to do that to himself then let him - he's the one who's going to end up getting his heart broken all over again. I lead our party up the frozen lawn and through the door of Chillsorrow manor. Within moments, the servants of the manor have surrounded us. They bow at me and I nod at them in return, all my thoughts now focused on treating my wound and getting some rest. Despite starting to heal on the way here, being kicked in the ribs by a being made of iron, isn't exactly sunshine and roses and I'm exhausted. I follow two of the thin gnomes into one of the many bedrooms and take off my shirt, letting them assess the damage.

"I need some salve and bandages," I tell them, watching as they scurry off to get the items. I sit on the bed, as more of the gnomes come in, carrying various ointments and salves to put on the wound. I rake a hand through my hair, pushing the dark strands out of my face as I watch them work. I'd much rather treat myself but, if I tell them that, then there's a good chance they'd take offence. They might not be brownies, but all servants in the Nevernever take some degree of pride in their work and being told they're not needed by a Prince, would probably not end well, so I keep my mouth shut and let them work.

Behind me, I hear quiet footsteps and I look up from watching the gnomes bandage my torso to see Meghan, huddled in a thick blanket. She nods towards the black welt poking out from the top of the bandage.

"Is that where-?" I nod, watching as she stares at it for a moment longer before shuddering and dropping her gaze. _She really does care, doesn't she?_ I can't help but think. "It looks almost burned." She says quietly.

"The creature's hooves were made of iron. Iron tends to burn, when it doesn't kill outright. I was lucky the blow wasn't over my heart." I tell her, although I'm not sure why I do. The gnomes pull the bandage tight and I wince as my chest burns.

"How bad are you hurt?" I look at her.

"The fey heal faster than you mortals," I tell her as I stand, sending the gnomes scattering to the corners of the room. "Especially if we're within our own territories. Except for this-" I run a finger over the burn, "-I should be fine by tomorrow."

"Oh. That's...good then." It's good to see my charm still works on humans. I smile coldly, both at what she's said and my own thoughts, although neither are anything to smile about really.

"Good? You shouldn't wish for my good health, princess. It would've been easier for you if Puck had killed me when he had the chance."

"No, it wouldn't. I need your help, both to get out of Unseelie territory and to find my brother. Besides, I couldn't let him kill you in cold blood." I'm impressed. Most people would have at least taken a step back, considering how close we're standing.

"Why not?" I ask her, genuinely curious to hear her answer. "He seems very devoted to you. Perhaps you'll wait until we leave Tir Na Nog to have him stab me in the back? What would happen if we fought again, and I killed him?" She glares at me. Of all the responses I was expecting, being glared at wasn't one of them.

"Stop it. Why are you doing this? I gave you my word. Why are you pulling this crap now?" Very naïve. About everything it seems. I take a step back, the mocking smile falling from my face as I do so.

"Just want to see where you stand, princess. I like to get a feel for my enemies before we engage in combat. See what their strengths and weaknesses are."

"We aren't in combat-"

"Combat doesn't have to be with swords," I tell her, turning quickly and heading back to the bed, before drawing my sword and examining it. "Emotions can be deadly weapons, and knowing your enemies breaking point can be the key to winning a battle. For example..." I turn back towards her, pointing the blade at Meghan. "You would do anything to find your brother - put yourself in danger, bargain with the enemy, give up your own freedom - if it means saving him. You'd likely do the same for your friends, or anyone else you care about. Your personal loyalty is your breaking point, and your enemies will likely use it against you. _That_ is your weakness, princess. That is the most dangerous aspect in your life." I lower the sword, letting my words sink in. I'm not sure why I feel the need to explain this to her, but something inside me is telling me she should know this. She should know what her weakness is before this task is over, before we return to Tir Na Nog. Maybe it's her resemblance to Ariella but she needs to know what's waiting for her, since Goodfellow obviously hasn't explained anything to her.

"So what?" She says stubbornly. "All you're telling me is I won't betray my friends or family. If that's a weakness, it's one I want." She truly doesn't understand. I watch her for a moment, weighing up her response. It's something that is so foreign to me - the idea of sacrificing myself for someone. The only time I've ever felt like that was with Ariella - I would have, I still would - do anything to save her.

"And if the choice was between saving your brother and letting me die, which would you choose? The answer should be obvious, but could you do it?" She doesn't reply, instead chews on her lip, but that's all the answer I need. I nod and turn away again. "I'm tired," I tell her, sitting back down on the bed. "You should find Puck and decide where we go from here. Unless, of course, you know where Machina's court is. I do not. If I'm going to help you, I need to rest." I lay down, putting an arm over my eyes, hoping the dismissal is clear even to a stubborn girl like her. Luckily for me, she seems to have gotten the message and a moment later, I hear the door close. I sigh and remove my arm, staring up at the ceiling. Despite everything in me, all the rules and laws that have been drilled into my head at Court, I like Meghan Chase. She's headstrong and determined and ever so slightly reckless...and she reminds me so much of Ariella. Which is why the thought of spending so much time with her completing this contract both excites me and pains me. Nothing is ever going to bring Ariella back and I've spent so long without her that I don't know whether she'd want me to help Meghan, or if she'd be upset that I had agreed. I settle down properly, turning onto my uninjured side. The contract states I have to help Meghan find her brother - that's it. It makes my life easier if it means she comes to Tir Na Nog willingly. That's it. I'm helping her, to help my court. That's all there is to it. With that final thought, I close my eyes and drift into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

I wake early, as I always do, and head down the silent halls to the empty dining room, before drawing my sword and taking a deep breath before going through the sword drills I do every morning. It calms me, the rhythmic movements, the practised steps. I need to be as calm as possible before facing Goodfellow again. I'm so focused on what I'm doing, I don't realise there's anyone else there until I'm finished. I open my eyes to see Meghan leaning against the doorway, watching me. When she realises I've seen her, she straightens hastily.

"Don't mind me," she says quickly. "I didn't mean to interrupt. Please, continue." I relax my tense stance as she talks, once I'm sure it's only her there, and Goodfellow isn't lurking somewhere.

"I'm finished anyway," I tell her, sheathing my sword. "Did you need something?" She blushes and drops her gaze, and for a moment I would give anything to know what was going through her mind.

"Um, no. That is...I'm glad you're feeling better." I give her a small smile. Despite everything I told her yesterday, she really is pleased I'm healed - not for her own personal gain but because she truly cares. Even though I could have killed her at least twice already.

"I have to be on top of my game if I'm going to kill things for you, right?" She opens her mouth to reply, but before she gets a chance, Goodfellow strolls in like he owns the place. I roll my eyes at the sight of the huge bowl of Summerpod's he's carrying in his arm.

"Mornin', princess," he mumbles, his mouth full. Honestly, the Unseelie may not be the most well behaved bunch of fey, but we are taught some manners. "Look what I found," he says, placing the bowl on the table.

"Are you raiding the cellars now, Goodfellow?" I ask him warily.

"Me? Stealing? In the house of my ancient enemy? What gave you that idea?" I roll my eyes at his sarcasm, as he tosses one of the fruits at Meghan.

"Summer-pod," Grimalkin states, jumping onto the table. "I did not think they grew in the Winter territories. Better not eat too many of those," he tells Meghan sternly. "They make faery wine out of that. Your human side will not handle it well." The cat does have a point. Goodfellow on the other hand, doesn't seem to see it that way.

"Oh, let her try one," he says, rolling his eyes. "She's been in Faery long enough, eating our food. It won't turn her into a rat or anything."

"Where are we going?" I interrupt, before this conversation derails any further. Honestly, if Goodfellow was left alone to help Meghan through the Nevernever, she'd be searching for her brother forever. "Did you manage to come up with a plan to find the Iron King, or are we going to paint targets on our backs and wander in circles until he notices?" With Robin Goodfellow, the likelihood of that happening is larger than you might originally think.

"You're awfully eager to help," Puck says, leaning against the table. It takes everything in me to not use a tiny bit of glamour to move the table slightly so he falls over. Childish? Yes. Hilarious? Definitely.

"Your princess and I made a bargain," I say instead. "I agreed to help her find the Iron King, though I won't bore you with the details." Despite everything, Goodfellow finding out that Meghan will give herself up to Tir Na Nog at the end of this probably isn't a brilliant idea. "While I will uphold my end of the contract, it did not involve you in any way. I only promised to help _her."_

"Which means we're still free to duel each other anytime we want."

"Exactly," I tell him with a cold smile.

"Well, why wait?" Puck asks, eagerly. Honestly, no one would believe us if we told them we were once friends. "We could step outside right now, Your Highness, and get this over with." I tense at the words _Your Highness -_ Puck knows how it irritates me being called that. Before I can reply though, Grimalkin interrupts.

"This is all quite fascinating," he says, ignoring our twin glares. "But instead of posing and scratching the ground like rutting peacocks, perhaps you should look to the girl." As one, our gazes all fall on Meghan, the once full bowl of Summerpods in front of her, now severely depleted.

"Princess!" Puck yelps, grabbing the bowl from her hands. "You're not supposed to...not all of them...how many of those did you eat?" I bite back the urge to groan at his actions but I can't quite stop myself from saying _something._

 _"_ How very like you, Puck." I say. "Offer them a taste of faery wine, and act surprised when they're consumed by it." Granted, I hadn't realised what she'd done either, but she's Puck's responsibility, not mine. Meghan starts to giggle and my eyes widen as I watch her. Despite myself the sight of Meghan, tears streaming down her face, worries me slightly. Up until now, she's seemed...strong. It's a worrying reminder that she's all too human. She tries to stand up but instead, promptly falls, still laughing violently. I catch her before she breaks her skull, scooping her into my arms, sternly telling myself that I am not worried about her, that this is all Puck's fault and is just another inconvenience. Surprisingly, it's not all that difficult to suppress the concern for the princess in my arms.

"What are you doing Ash?" Puck asks me and I detect a hint of jealousy in his voice. Well, if he doesn't like it, he should have kept a better eye on her, shouldn't he.

"I'm taking her back to her room," I tell him, ignoring the way Meghan shifts in my arms, nestling her head against my chest. And I also ignore the fact that I kind of like it. "She'll have to sleep off the effects of the fruit. We'll likely be here another day because of your idiocy."

"My idiocy? Far as I remember ice-boy, you weren't watching her either. You can't just pin all of this on me." I ignore him and leave the dining room, heading back to the stairs that lead to the bedrooms, keeping my gaze firmly off the princess' face. I lay her on the bed before turning on my heel and heading towards the door. Before stopping, Puck's final words ringing in my ears. I sigh and grab one of the chairs, placing it next to the door. As much as I hate to admit it, Puck does have a point. It seems Meghan does need someone watching her to make sure she doesn't do something stupid. Looks like that person is going to be me. I sit on that chair for hours, just staring at the wall as Meghan sleeps. The manor is completely silent, so when Meghan suddenly sits bolt upright on the bed screaming, it takes me by surprise to say the least. Grimalkin, who had come in at some point during the day and had curled up on top of Meghan, goes flying, yowling as he leaps out of the way. Almost faster than I would have thought possible, she races towards the door and it's only through centuries of practise that I manage to intercept her.

"Let go!" She screams, working an arm free and aiming at my face. I duck out of the way just before her nails come into contact with my face. "Ethan is out there! I have to save him! Let me go!" I grab her wrist and pin it to my chest before she can do anymore damage.

"You don't even know where he is," I tell her, although it doesn't do much good. I glare at her and shake her gently. "Listen to me! If you go charging out there without a plan, you'll kill us all and your brother will die. Is that what you want?" She sags against me, her legs almost giving out on her.

"No," she whispers weakly. We stay like that for a moment, me supporting her weight as she composes herself. After a moment, she straightens, wiping her eyes. "Sorry," she says. "I'm okay now. No more freaking out, I promise." Again, I'm reminded how different she is from me. How scared she is for her brother - what she's willing to put herself through to make sure he's safe. My brothers wouldn't do the same for me, that I'm sure of. Gently, Meghan tugs on her hand, reminding me that I'm still holding it, but I don't let go. I don't want to. We stand there like that, watching each other for the longest time. Barely thinking, I reach up and brush a tear that she's missed from her cheek. She shivers a little but I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not. At this point, I'm not really sure I care. "Is this where you say you'll kill me?" She whispers and I feel myself smile a little.

"If you like," I murmur, trying not to chuckle at the question. "Though it's gotten far too interesting for that."

* * *

 **This is most of the scenes from Chillsorrow manor although there is a little left off the end - I decided to combine the request for the scene where Meghan watches Ash being bandaged with the Summerpod scene because I think that's honestly one of the funniest scenes in the whole book. I decided not to continue the last chapter - it was a little harder than expected to get Ash's thoughts right. He's stubborn like that. Let me know what other scenes you'd like to see and what you thought of this scene guys. xxx**


	4. First Glimpse

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the dialogue - they belong to the wonderful Julie Kagawa. I'm just playing with them a little bit ;)**

* * *

 **The First Glimpse**

I shrug on my coat and take a deep breath, steeling myself before stepping out of my room and into the bustling corridor of Unseelie fey. Home sweet home. As I walk quickly down the corridor, nodding briefly at the fey who bow as I pass them, I keep an ear out for any snatches of the gossip that has been circulating around the palace for the past few days. Not that I make a habit of listening to idle gossip, but when it concerns the fey that I have sworn to kill...well, then I'd be a fool to not pay attention if his name is mentioned, wouldn't I. Needless to say, I don't have to walk far before I hear Goodfellow's name popping up in conversation and I slow slightly in order to catch what's being said.

"I heard he's slumming it in the human world because Oberon kicked him out of Arcadia."

"Well I heard it's because he's hiding from Titania after she threatened to turn him into a snail after one of his pranks went wrong. Wouldn't be the first time."

"I heard it's because Oberon has sent him to protect someone. Out in the sticks of Louisiana apparently."

"A human? That's ridiculous! Why would Oberon's jester be protecting a snivelling human?"

I continue walking before I'm caught eavesdropping. Despite knowing I can take on practically everyone in this court, I'm in no mood for a fight this early in the morning. As I continue my walk to the banquet hall, I go over what I just overheard. While the actual reason for Goodfellow's absence is unknown, it's apparently common knowledge that he's in the human world. And if that's true, it won't be too difficult to find out exactly where he is. With my resolve steeled, I changed course and turned down another corridor, heading towards the throne room, where I knew my mother would already be up, despite the early hour. I wonder how she'll react to me disappearing off in the Wyldwood again. Probably not very well, considering I've been back at court for a few weeks. Despite this, I'm already yearning for the freedom the Wyldwood gives me and I know Mab knows this, even if she doesn't fully understand it.

I reach the ornately carved door leading to the throne room but, instead of going in, I stand outside the door, listening first. It didn't take me long to learn that if you don't listen before you enter, you can quickly end up being involved in a quarrel that Mab is having with someone and that never ends well for anyone involved. I learnt that the hard way. As I listen through the door, pressing my hand lightly upon the ice sculpture of a lion's head to steady myself, I thank my lucky stars that I didn't just enter like I'm expected to, because, from the sound of it, my mother is in an awful temper. It's very rare that Mab yells - it's her cool calmness that is more terrifying than anything else, but today it seems she's really going for it, and I wince as the sound of something shattering filters through the door, followed quickly by a shrill scream of terror. I take a step away from the door, bumping into someone stood behind me. I turn round, fully intending to turn whoever dared to loiter into an ice sculpture, until I realise that the person loitering behind me is in fact Sage. We stare at each other for a moment, before he nods towards the door.

"Sounds...interesting." As if to punctuate the point, something else shatters behind the door.

"Interesting isn't the way I'd describe it Sage," I mutter. Sage chuckles dryly, absently petting his wolf behind the ear.

"If you're going to go Ash, I'd just go. If you ask Mab when she's in this mood, she'll never let you go. I'll tell her later, when she's calmed down a little." Out of both of my brothers, I'm probably closest to Sage, precisely for this reason. He understands why I don't like to stay at court and, in times like this, is willing to take on Mab for me. I wouldn't say we're incredibly close, but in comparison to my relationship with Rowan...well, I'm closer to Goodfellow than Rowan and I've sworn to kill him. Take from that what you will. Behind the door, the sound of high heeled boots coming towards the door filters through to us and I waste no time in nodding my thanks to Sage and bolting down the hall and out into the courtyard as fast as I can.

I don't just get up early to practise sword drills, although that is one reason for it. No, the main reason is because it's quiet, especially at court. Out in the Wyldwood, it's more because staying in one place for too long is likely to end up with you getting eaten but at court, it's so quiet. Many fey are still asleep, or passed out drunk somewhere after another all night party. In a few hours, it will be a different story, with fey milling about everywhere, so I've learned to make the most of it while I can. It also makes getting out of Tir Na Nog infinitely easier. I saddle up a large black stallion and a few minutes later, urge it into a gallop as we fly across the courtyard and into the surrounding woodland. Finding Puck right now is going to be like finding a needle in a haystack - especially if he doesn't want to be found(which I'm guessing he doesn't) - so, instead of heading towards one of the trods that will take me to the human world I head towards one of the lesser known entrances to the Wyldwood and from there, Arcadia. Where I'll be able to find someone who knows exactly where Goodfellow is.

* * *

It doesn't take too long to reach the border to Arcadia. Just long enough for me to think about what I'm actually doing. I don't need to hunt Puck down - idle curiosity on his whereabouts has gotten the better of me. But is it really just curiosity? Yes I do want to know where he's been hiding for sixteen years but it's more than that. Sixteen years is a long time for Robin Goodfellow to disappear from the Nevernever without a trace and rumours are only just beginning to circulate as to where he could be, which takes some serious doing in this place (the fey do like to gossip after all) but it's been too quiet around here. Not that I'd ever tell Puck that but it is. Before, there was always a chance we'd run into each other in the Wyldwood and, despite everything, I quite enjoyed those chance meetings because despite trying to kill each other, there was always a sense of the past there. Of a tentative friendship that has been long buried under the need for revenge but still makes an appearance from time to time. It's strange, not having seen him for so long. So yes, curiosity is definitely the main factor in this impromptu trip because I want to know why he's disappeared - even if Oberon has told him to stay away, there would have to be a good reason for him to do it. But for the life of me, I can't figure out why he's gone. But I do know someone who will.

I slow the stallion to a walk as I keep an eye open for the person I'm looking for. It doesn't take long for me to spot who I'm looking for, a foot hanging off a thick tree branch. I slide off the saddle and bend down, picking up a decent sized rock from the base of the tree and throwing it up towards the snoring fey.

"Oof!" I turn away from the tree, running a hand over the stallion as I listen as the fey picks himself up from the ground, from where he's fallen out of the tree.

"Radella," I say, interrupting the imaginative curse words being spouted behind me. They abruptly stop and the fear in the air is almost palpable. I smile darkly. "We meet again."

"P-p-prince Ash," Radella stutters. "What can I do for you, Your Highness?" I turn to face the elf, who is trembling with fear.

"As councillor to Lord Oberon, I imagine you know a lot of what goes on in the Seelie Court, don't you?" I ask conversationally.

"Y-yes, I suppose I do, although there are some matters which only Lord Oberon knows about."

"I'm sure there are. What I want to know though, is the whereabouts of one particular member of the Seelie Court, and I think you can help me."

"That depends on who you're looking for, Your Highness."

"Robin Goodfellow. Word has it that he's been residing in the human world for the past few years - I want to know where." Radella's eyes widen in alarm.

"I don't know where Robin Goodfellow is though Prince Ash. Lord Oberon has kept that information to himself." I take a step towards the elf, my hand resting lightly on the hilt of my sword.

"If that is the case, then you should be able to find out, shouldn't you?" The elf opens his mouth to speak but I hold up a hand. "You are in my debt Radella, after your antics at Winter's Elysium a few months ago. I stepped in and persuaded Oberon to allow you to keep your job as his councillor - even if he did cast you out of the palace itself. You are in my debt and I'm calling it in now." Radella nods meekly, his knees shaking violently.

"Yes, Your Highness. Lord Oberon has requested my presence in court this afternoon. If you are able to wait until then, I shall find out the whereabouts of Robin Goodfellow."

"I thought that might be your answer. I'm glad that we could reach this agreement peacefully, aren't you?" He nods and I smirk at his fear. You would never catch a winter fey so blatantly admitting to being afraid, unless they're in the presence of Mab and usually not even then. "Just be sure not to mention who wants to know won't you? I'd hate to have to resort to more...violent methods."

"Of course, Your Highness. I wouldn't dream of mentioning your name."

"Very well. I shall leave you to prepare. I shall be back tonight and I expect an answer - see that I get it."

"Yes Your Highness." With that, I climb back onto the stallion and kick it's sides, harshly. Now I have all day to kill while I wait for an answer. I slow the horse to a trot, listening for any disturbances. To my left, a faint rustling of leaves is just audible and I grin to myself. Turning the horse round, I kick it back into a gallop, following the rustling sound through the undergrowth.

* * *

In the end, I don't end up killing anything, although the chase was enjoyable and killed a bit of time but, by the time darkness has claimed the Nevernever, I'm leaning against Radella's tree impatiently waiting for the elf to turn up. I don't have to wait long before I spot him hurrying over the crest of the hill and I push myself off of the trunk in anticipation. He skids to a halt in front of me, breathing heavily.

"You're late," I tell him.

"I'm sorry Your Highness. It was harder than I expected to find Robin Goodfellow's location."

"But you have found it?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Robin Goodfellow is currently residing in the swamps of Southern Louisiana."

"Can you be more specific?"

"Well, Robin Goodfellow is extremely good at disappearing, but there have been a few sightings at Southview High School." He pauses for a moment. "There's a trod about three miles east from here that should take you to some woodland near where the school bus route is, although whether Goodfellow would be idiotic enough to put himself through the torture of sitting in an iron contraption like a bus, even if it is on Oberon's orders, I don't know."

"I don't doubt that he would," I mumble to myself, thinking back to the conversation I overheard this morning. The one fey said she'd heard Goodfellow was in Louisiana protecting a human. If that is true then I don't doubt that Goodfellow would sit through a torturous journey on that iron contraption that humans have started using.

"You've been very helpful Radella. Your debt to me is now repaid." With that, I climb back onto the stallion and head east towards the trod. I push the stallion as hard as I can and it doesn't take me long to find the trod. It's hidden within a small oak tree - only a couple of hundred years old compared to it's brethren surrounding it - and I push the stallion through it at a full gallop, wanting nothing more than to get this over with. Just like Randella said, I emerge in some woodland, although I can hear the sound of cars rushing past nearby. I slow the horse to a gentle trot - the last thing I need is for the horse to trip over the varying degrees of rubbish that the humans have dumped and have to walk back to Tir Na Nog. Judging by the sun's position, it's a little before three o'clock in the afternoon here, which is a little disorientating when a moment ago it was the middle of the night. I don't have to go far before I see a break in the tree line and I pull the horse to a stop just behind a tall metal pole, with a sign saying _Southview High School - Route 9_. I don't know much about human schools, but if Puck is on this school bus like I suspect he will be, I don't think I'll have to wait long.

I stand by the horse under the boughs of an old oak tree, far enough from the road to not be overly affected by the iron, but close enough to still be able to see Puck if he is on the bus. Typically, not five minutes after I stop, the heavens open and the rain comes pouring down, drenching both me and the horse completely. As I wait, I glamour my clothes, turning my long coat into the black and silver uniform that I'll be forced into wearing in a few days time for Elysium. Goodfellow will understand the significance - he's missing out on a traditional ritual for fey, and now I know why, it would be quite easy for me to tell Mab. The uniform symbolises my unity to the Unseelie court. Something Robin Goodfellow would do well to remember sometimes. I hate wearing the thing though, and when it's wet, the uncomfortable uniform sticks to my skin unpleasantly. Luckily, I don't have to wait long. Not even an hour later, a metal box lurches to a stop in front of me and I narrow my eyes as I glance through the windows, dismissing the bored looking faces peering out of them. Until one girl with long white blonde hair straightens from her slumped position by the window. Staring right at me. She can't possibly be looking at me though - she's a human. A human who should be ignorant to any and all fey around her. Yet something in the way her eyes widen slightly tells me that that assumption is wrong.

The girl turns to the side, talking to someone beside her and a second later, Puck's face appears in the window, his eyes hard. The girl pulls back from the window, leaving me and Puck to stare at each other. I watch with a grim satisfaction as Puck mouths my name to himself. We stare at each other until the bus pulls away once more, though I continue to watch as it sputters down the road. I drop the glamour once the bus is gone, knowing the message has been received and understood. He's been found and now it's his turn to make a move. I lead the horse back to the trod on foot, my mind wandering back to the girl on the bus. She was pretty, no doubt about that and the fact that she was talking to Puck almost certainly secures the idea that she is the human Puck is protecting - but why? Her beauty can't be the reason, Goodfellow has never really bought into that sort of thing. She must be important for him to be there. She could see me after all, but that might have been a fluke. There are instances where humans have been able to see us despite the glamour, even in this modern world. I should know. I know I should put the girl out of my mind for good - there's no reason for me to continue to wonder about her, she's not really important to me. Yet even once I've made camp for the night, in a cave by a lake back in the Wyldwood, I think back to her and how she could see me. How surprised she was to see me, despite Robin Goodfellow being sat next to her. The girl might not be important to me, but she is certainly intriguing. For a human anyway.

* * *

 **Hey guys. I hope I've done this scene justice - Ash features for all of three lines really so how he came to be in Louisiana was really left to my imagination. I did toy with the idea of Mab sending her son after Puck but I didn't know why she would do that so I hope Ash's severe case of curiosity was believable and his thoughts and feelings were okay. Let me know what you think guys and the next chapter where Ash meets Meghan and Puck in the Wyldwood should be up either tomorrow or the day after. See you then xxx**


	5. The Hunt

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the dialogue - they belong to the wonderful Julie Kagawa. I'm just playing with them a little bit ;)**

* * *

 **The Hunt**

It's rare for me to be a part of the hunt. It can be a dangerous occupation, and, despite everything, I am still a prince of Winter - my death, although not catastrophic, would still present problems for Mab and the Unseelie Court. But today, I am. We're hunting for a nympth who owes Mab his life. And has seemingly disappeared without a trace, which, as you can imagine, has made Mab incredibly happy. It's probably safer for me to be here than at the palace right now.

We've been scouring the Wyldwood for days now and we've had no sight of the nympth - which is both satisfying and irritating. While I don't like being at Court at the best of times, not having any leads whatsoever is incredibly annoying - especially when I pride myself on being able to find people who don't want to be found. Below me, one of the hounds' heads suddenly shoots up, drawing my attention. Less than a second later, the howling starts and I smile to myself. Whoever is out there, is about to get an unwelcome surprise. And for my sake, I'm hoping it's the nympth. I do not want to be the one to tell Mab that we couldn't find him. I turn my horse in the direction the dogs are pointing and, surrounded by the howling of hounds, the Hunt ploughs into the forest, nimbly dodging the trees that stand in our way as easily as if they weren't there.

It takes longer than I expected to catch even a glimpse of our prey, proving just why the hounds that are selected for the Hunt are so rigorously tested before they are admitted. A regular hound wouldn't have been able to pick up a scent from how far away we were. After a long time riding, I finally catch a glimpse of our prey and for a moment I'm confused. It definitely isn't the nympth we're hunting - it's a grey horse; it's back so slick with sweat I can see the droplets glistening in the sunlight from here. It's not until I get a little closer that I catch a glimpse of the passenger on the back of the horse. A girl, with long white blonde hair, grasping desperately at the horse's mane. She's familiar to me but it takes me a moment to realise exactly how I know her. And then it hits me. It's the girl from the bus - the one who saw me standing in the rain a few weeks back when I was hunting Puck. The one who could see me despite the glamour. The mystery girl. How did she find her way into the Nevernever? There's only one person who would be stupid enough to bring her here and I'd bet my inheritance on the grey horse being Robin Goodfellow. After sixteen years, he's finally come back, but why would he bring the girl with him?

I push the questions down - I can wonder about them later. For now, there is only one thing to do. The product of my vow to Ariella that fateful day - the anger and hurt and betrayal that I keep bubbling just under the surface rears it's head as I train my eyes on Goodfellow's flank. As I gain on the pair, one of the hounds bursts from the bushes, snapping at Goodfellow's legs. He just manages to dodge the hound, but in the process, nearly throws the girl off. She screams as Puck kicks out at one of the hounds, hitting it in the chest as it leaps at him. I pull the bow off from where it hangs on my back and reach back for an arrow as I watch at least five more of the enormous hounds leap at Puck and the girl. My chest spasms once as I see the terrified look on her face and a strange sense of deja vu hits me, although it takes me a moment to place what it is. And when it hits me, it hits me like a speeding freight train.

Ariella.

She looks like Ariella. Minus the terrified look (although I suspect even Ariella would have looked like that had she been treated to the Hunt's hounds) she is almost Ariella's double. The last time I saw her, I spared her only a passing glance through a rain soaked window that distorted her face, meaning I didn't get a chance to feel the impact of seeing my lost love staring back at me. Her white blonde hair blows back in the breeze and I can already tell that when she smiles, her eyes will light up, just like Ari's used to. I shake my head, nocking the arrow onto the string and take aim at the grey horse. That girl is not Ariella - she never will be. They may look similar but Ari is long gone, and it's all Puck's fault. The girl turns back, staring at me and I smile back at her, so coldly that even Rowan would have been impressed, as I draw the string back.

"Puck!" She screams and I'm surprised at the emotion in her voice. She truly cares about Goodfellow, despite him bringing her to this place. "Look out!" Above me, the leaves on the trees rustle a warning, right before a branch snaps off, hitting my arm as I let the string go. I curse quietly, glaring at Puck who, in turn, watches the spider web of frost coat the tree that my lost arrow hits. I grab another arrow but, before I can properly aim again, Puck gives a shrill whinny and leaps over the snapping hounds, landing in front of us and galloping flat out. I curse again, knowing that my first arrow was my best shot at hitting Puck. Now he knows it's me, and, if the falling branch is anything to go by, will do anything to escape. I follow the dogs, keeping the arrow nocked but letting the bow itself fall to my side as I chase Goodfellow through the Wyldwood. He's got the lead now and if I want to stop him for good, I'm going to have to push the stallion I'm riding as fast as he will go.

By the time I catch sight of Goodfellow again, the girl is gone. It's only by chance that I looked up into the boughs of one of the centuries old oak trees lining the Wyldwood that I managed to catch sight of him watching me before I sped past him. I wave one of the huntsmen on, letting the rest of the hunt go on ahead, leaving me and Goodfellow staring at each other in cold contempt.

"Well, I'd like to say it's good to see you again ice-boy although, your little welcome home gift back there didn't exactly make me feel very welcome." I roll my eyes, sliding off of the stallion who immediately lays down in the grass, panting heavily.

"Well, your little trick with the branch gave me the exact same feeling Goodfellow." Puck raises an eyebrow at me.

"Touché," he says. "Although, in my defence, you shot at me first."

"If you recall, I hadn't let the arrow fly yet."

"I'm sure you'd have missed either way princeling."

"Where's the girl Goodfellow?" Puck crosses his arms and tries to act like he doesn't know what I'm talking about - which is ridiculous because we both know I saw the girl (twice now). Puck quickly gives up that approach, raking a hand through his hair.

"She's safe, or she should be if everything goes my way." He mutters. Now it's my turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Why is she so important to you?" I ask him.

"Why shouldn't she be?" I sigh at his response. It's obvious I'm not getting anything out of Puck about the girl, not in the time I've got before the hunt comes back to see where I've got to. Nevertheless, the girl's relationship with Puck - whatever that might be - is intriguing to me.

"If you won't tell me, then I guarantee I'll find out some other way," I threaten, in a half-hearted attempt to get him to open up, although deep down, I didn't expect it to work.

"Well then, I guess you'll have to wait and see. Now, while this little visit has been a stimulating experience and is one I'll treasure for a long time to come, I'm afraid I must be going. If you're looking for a nympth by the way, there are rumours going around that he's hiding in the caves by Kelpie Lake, not too far from your borders Prince." With a smug grin and a flurry of black feathers, Puck flies away. And I let him go, because I have centuries to make Puck pay for what he's done. Killing him quickly now just won't do. Although I am wondering how he not only knew I was looking for the nympth but also how he knew where he was hiding. Just how long has he been back here? Behind me, the sounds of the Hunt returning snap me out of my thoughts and I turn to find my stallion standing once more, patiently waiting. I mount and press him forward, back towards the borders of Tir Na Nog.

"My Lord, where are we going?" One of the hunters calls from behind, as the rest of the party joins me. I sigh, hardly believing I'm saying it.

"The kelpie infested lake to the south of Tir Na Nog's borders - the nympth has been sighted there recently." With that, we plough back through the Wyldwood towards home and the whole way, my mind is occupied to the mysterious girl and how exactly she knows Puck and my memories of Ariella.

* * *

 **Okay, so I'm a day late but this scene again didn't really have much Ash in so I've had to use my imagination. I hope I've done him justice and that the scenario's I've come up with are vaguely believable. Let me know what you think guys - I have one more scene at the moment for Book 1 so if you want to see any others then let me know soon. If not, then we'll be moving onto Book 2 very soon. See you soon guys xxx**


	6. Captured

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the dialogue - they belong to the wonderful Julie Kagawa. I'm just playing with them a little bit ;)**

* * *

 **Captured**

"Meghan." I say as calmly as I can considering the circumstances. "I hope you find your brother. If you see Puck again, tell him I regret having to step out of our duel." I can feel Meghan's anger rising up the moment she realises what I'm planning to do. The anger I can deal with - the accompanying pain, not so much. In fact, knowing that what I'm about to do is hurting almost makes me reconsider. Almost.

"Ash, no! Don't do this!" I smile softly.

"You made me feel alive again," I tell her quietly. Meghan Chase, the half human daughter of the Summer King has done what so many have tried to do before. She made me want to fight again. To fight for the happiness that I lost so long ago. And because of her, I found some semblance of that. I might not be able to continue on with this journey, but I will make sure Meghan doesn't end up like me - bitter and alone because she lost someone she loved. I raise the pick axe with a shaking arm as the gremlins attack. I smack two of them senseless but when another jumps at my head, forcing me to duck I lose my footing and fall to my knees. In seconds, my body is covered with the gremlins, burning under the contact. Somewhere, deep inside of me, a little niggling voice reminds me of who I am. Reminds me of who is still watching and with a snarl, more of pain than anger, I push myself back onto my feet, desperately trying to shake off some of the gremlins, despite knowing it won't work. Behind me, I can feel Meghan's terrified stare pierced on my back and I bite back a curse. Why is she still here?

"Meghan, go!" I call as loudly as I can, which admittedly, isn't very loud and so doesn't convey as much authority as I want or need it to. "Now!" I add, slamming yet another gremlin into the wall. She hesitates a second, and even through the noise of the screeching gremlins, I can hear her sob as she turns and leaves me, and that sound kills me more than it should. Seconds after she leaves, my body gives up and when I drop to the floor this time, I know there's no getting back up. The gremlins let out an alarming screech before trampling over me, in the direction of where Meghan has just left.

 _No!_ I try to push myself back up, to give her more time but my body no longer obeys me and I'm left lying on the floor, surrounded by gremlins, praying with all of my heart that Meghan has gotten away. That they won't find her. Because if she hasn't, then I doubt I'm going to be much use to her. A moment later, a resounding bang echoes through the tunnel, dislodging dirt and rocks from the ceiling above and making the gremlins who have stayed to guard me scatter. I allow myself a small smile at the sound because it means, or at least I hope it means, that Meghan has gotten away and is safe. Or at least, as safe as she can be in this place. With that knowledge lodged firmly in my heart, I close my eyes and let the darkness take me away.

* * *

I don't know how long I sleep. I can feel my body being carried somewhere but I no longer care what happens to me. I'm with Meghan once more, we should be at Winter's Elysium, but I've snuck us both out of the stuffy hall to surprise Meghan with a little privacy, in a little grotto in Tir Na Nog. As we walk, I can't help but think that this is the first time I think I've ever seen her truly smile and it's a beautiful sight. It changes the way she looks into someone who looks innocent and almost child like instead of someone who has seen things no one should ever see and has aged before their time because of this. I take her hand and lead her through the snow, smiling at her constant questions and attempts at persuading me to tell her where we're going. Unfortunately for her, I've lived in Tir Na Nog my whole life - I'm very good at keeping secrets, even when I'm dying to tell someone what they are. I stop for a second, turning to face her. Her beautiful blonde hair is pulled back in a loose bun, a few tendrils framing her face which is flushed with excitement and the cold. Her blue eyes are almost alive, sparkling in the late evening sunlight in a way that I've never seen from her before. Her dress is a pale silver, decorated with crystals that mimic the light in her eyes and my black cloak is draped over her shoulders to shield her from the cold. I know that I'm handsome - there have been enough girls (both fey and mortal) fawning over me in my life to attest to that, but even in my black and silver uniform I feel decidedly underdressed compared to her, although I know I'd feel that way even if she was dressed in her jeans.

"What?" She asks, blushing under my scrutiny, making me smile.

"I was just wondering if I've told you how beautiful you look tonight," I say. The flush deepens and she drops her gaze from mine, making me frown. "Meghan?"

"You don't have to say that," she says quietly, confusing me even more.

"Why wouldn't I say that? It's true." She doesn't say anything and after a moment, I put a finger under her chin, lifting it so she's looking at me again. "I will tell you every day for the rest of my life - you are the most beautiful girl I've ever set my eyes on."

"More beautiful than Ariella?" She asks. I wasn't expecting that.

"Yes," I tell her after a second. And it's true. Ariella was beautiful yes, but Meghan has a different kind of beauty. An endearing naivety of the power she actually holds over those she talks to. Ariella was innocent, especially in the ways of Court life, but she had grown up in Tir Na Nog and knew in some sense of what not to do. Although admittedly, both Meghan and Ariella share an infuriating stubborn streak that I've never seen before. She smiles shyly and I know that she can hear the truth in my words. I smile back, and pull her forward, holding back the snow covered pine branches and leading her into the grotto.

"Wow," she breathes.

"What do you think? Is it worth skipping out on Elysium for?" I ask with a grin. She nods, her face an absolute picture. I head over to a small ice table and uncork a green bottle, pouring the liquid into two sparking champagne flutes, being careful not to pour too much into Meghan's glass - I want her to actually enjoy tonight, not spend it unconscious on the floor. I walk back over to her, handing her the flute with a wry smile.

"Let's start with one and see how we go, shall we?" She blushes again, though it quickly turns to a glare when I chuckle.

"That's not funny. Besides, I thought we'd both agreed to never speak about that again." The chuckle turns to a laugh.

"I don't believe I ever made a promise to that effect princess." In response, Meghan sticks her tongue out at me before sipping on the wine. Almost immediately, her eyes start to cloud over and my amusement turns to worry, until Meghan rolls her eyes at me.

"I'm fine Ash, honest." I smirk.

"I may be more inclined to believe you, your Highness, if you could say that without hiccupping." Before she can hit me, I pluck the glass from her hand, and place it back on the table.

"Hey, I wasn't finished with that!" I laugh and pull her into my arms.

"Trust me, it will still be there when we're done. I just thought the night might go smoother if you take a break between drinks." She raises her eyebrow at my cryptic answer and I wave my hand behind me, where soft music floats towards us.

"Even though we're not technically at Elysium, I do believe you owe me a dance."

"Oh I do, do I?" I lean closer, so that our breathes mingle and our lips are almost touching.

"I think so, don't you?" I wait there for a second, before pulling back slightly and pulling Meghan forward, into the first steps of a traditional fey dance. I lose track of time as we dance together, Meghan's head resting gently on my chest. I'm absently aware of the sky getting dark but with the appearance of the fireflies buzzing around above us, emitting a pale golden glow, not even the dark poses it's usual threats to me; at least for a little while. Not until a howl shatters the spell of the music, and I turn my head sharply in the direction it came from.

"Ash?" I turn back to face Meghan, trying to hide my concern. This late at night, this far from the palace is a dangerous place to be for anyone, not least Meghan, who is either slightly drunk on the wine, or on the brink of exhaustion. Either way, it doesn't bode well for either of us. "What was that?" She asks.

"I don't know and I'm not sure I want to find out. Come on, lets get back to the palace." I take her hand and lead her towards the edge of the grotto, when the pine branches part, revealing thousands of screeching gremlins. I pull my sword out, the blue light illuminating the beasts and push Meghan behind me.

"Run Meghan," I tell her, bracing myself for the inevitable attack.

"No Ash, I'm not leaving you here!"

"Yes you are. Go back to the palace, tell them what's happened. They'll know where to find me." I pause for a moment, waiting for her to do as I've asked but, of course, she doesn't. "Please Meghan! I need to know you're safe." Another pause and then she's in front of me, pressing her lips to mine in desperation.

"You listen to me Prince Ash. Don't you dare die on me, you hear?" I smile quickly at her.

"I promise." I blink and Meghan is gone and all I can feel is my body burning. I fall to the snow writhing in pain although I don't know why I feel like this - there's no iron anywhere near here apart from the gremlins, and they're all sat watching me. In my head I call Meghan's name and think back to the night we've just had together. No, not together, just a dream. A beautiful, torturous dream. The burning starts to fade and, distantly, I think I can hear her calling my name.

"Ash. Ash, come on. Don't do this to me. Open your eyes. Wake up. Please..." There's a pause before she sobs and my heart seems to crack at the sound. Meghan shouldn't be crying - especially not over me. As I start to become more aware, I can feel her face against my neck, her hair tickling my skin. And I can hear the words she whispers to me between the tears I can feel dripping onto my neck. "I'm sorry. Sorry, so sorry." I frown. Why is she sorry? This isn't her fault. I'm not quite sure what this is but I know that Meghan is not the cause of it. Suddenly, the fire that has been burning my body disappears and I know that I have to see her, because it's obvious to me, even unconscious, that she had something to do with that. I have to tell her that this isn't her fault. I scrunch my eyes together as I start to come round, and with my new found awareness, comes the memories of how I ended up in this position. Whatever this position may actually be. Meghan presses her lips lightly to mine and if that's not incentive to open my eyes I don't know what is. I finally open my eyes to the most beautiful sight in the world. Meghan leans over me, her pale blonde hair falling over her shoulder like a curtain. It takes me a few attempts but, eventually, I manage to croak out her name.

"Meghan?"

"Yes," she says immediately. "I'm here." Barely even aware of my own actions, I bring my hand up and gently brushed it along her cheek, revelling in it's softness.

"I…dreamed you…would come," I murmur, barely aware of what I'm telling her. All I can think is that she's here. Meghan's here with me and...

She shouldn't be here. As that thought settles over me, everything loses that blurry edge that's surrounded me since I woke up and I grasped her arm, digging my fingers in as much as I can to drive the point home. "You shouldn't…be here. This…a trap." I just manage to get the words out before dark laughter echoes around the room, and a wall falls back to reveal a squadron of guards, with their weapons pointed at us. Sitting on top of a throne, comes the source of the laughter. The one we've been searching for all this time. Machina.

* * *

"Meghan Chase," he says after a moment. "Welcome. I've been expecting you." My body goes rigid as he speaks to Meghan as if they're old friends. As if he isn't the reason her whole life has been turned upside down. The reason behind most of her pain. I keep my eyes on her face, watching as she takes a breath and gently lays me down, allowing her to stand.

"Meghan, don't." I whisper, the fear I feel for her painfully evident in my voice. Either my pleas are too quiet for her to hear, or she just ignores them. Either way, she steps forward, facing the Iron King with her shoulders held back. With a jolt, I realise what she's doing. She's protecting _me._ But it shouldn't be this way. I should be the one protecting her from him, or at least standing next to her ready to fight for her and her brother. Something that, a few days ago, I would never have even considered as being a possibility. But now. Now I need to be there next to her - she shouldn't have to stand against this mad man alone. Not after everything. I watch as she bends down, snatching up the bow and arrow and firing it desperately at Machina. I allow myself a small smile of pride at her actions. Despite everything, despite losing everyone she's cared about in some way during this adventure, my stubborn Meghan will not back down no matter what. Even as I watch the arrow fly true, my pride turns to horror as silvery cables whip forward, protecting Machina from the missile, striking it away so that, instead of hitting Machina, it hits a tree and snaps in two. My heart aches for Meghan in that moment - our only weapon has just been destroyed and as she turns slightly to watch the arrow break against the tree, the look in her eyes confirms my suspicions. There is no Plan B - our one and only weapon against Machina is gone. She has nothing left to use to get her brother back. _She has me._

With that thought, I try to push myself to my feet, in a desperate attempt to help her in any way that I can. Although, with how difficult it is to merely sit up right now, fighting the swarm of guards descending on Meghan seems like an impossible feat. Before I have chance to really test the theory though, Machina does something that surprises me.

"Stop." He says, before floating down from his throne. His voice wasn't raised or particularly imposing like Mab's would have been, yet all the guards in the room jerked to a halt immediately. Even I have to admit that his power over them is impressive. I watch as he smiles at Meghan, like they're old friends and not like she just tried to kill him. "Leave," he says, equally quietly. Several of the guards jerk their heads up; looking at their king in surprise.

"My King?" One stammers and my eyes narrow on him. He was one of the guards that strung us up in that mine. If he happened to look my way, I'm reasonably sure that he'd be suitably terrified - or at least that's what I'm going to tell myself for now - but his gaze remains locked on Machina.

"The Lady is uncomfortable with your presence," Machina tells him. "I do not wish her to be uncomfortable. Go. I will take care of her, and the Winter Prince." Well, that doesn't sound particularly pleasant.

"But Sire-" I have to give him credit - it takes guts to question a royal of any kind just once, doing it twice is suicide. Something I'm sadistically hoping this moron is about to find out for himself. My thoughts are brought to life a moment later when one of Machina's cables shoots out, throwing the guard against the wall. He slumps to the ground; a lake of dark oil pooling around him. _Serves him right_ I think to myself before a twinge of guilt makes me reconsider my thoughts. I'm not Rowan - I have my moments but even I find the sight in front of me slightly horrific. And I live under Mab's thumb. The stunt got the point across though, because the guards all scramble to leave the room, leaving me and Meghan staring at Machina. Machina doesn't spare me a passing glance, his attention is purely focused on Meghan. To be fair to him, I don't look like much of a threat right now, the fountain supporting all of my weight as I slump against it. Yet Machina's next words spark a determined fire within me.

"You are as beautiful as I imagined." He tells her, stepping forward. "Beautiful, fiery, determined. Perfect." I curse in my head at his words, and try to muster up some energy to move. I watch Meghan look back at me, through the hair that's fallen over my face. I curse again when she steps forward, closer to the maniac.

"I'm here for my brother," she says, her voice surprisingly calm considering the circumstance. "Please, let him go. Let me take him home." Her voice, though calm, betrays her love for her little brother. Her need to protect him is a weakness - one that I know Machina is going to exploit and use for all it's worth. A loud clanking sound breaks me from my thoughts and I manage to look up to see a wrought iron bird cage, appear next to the now empty throne. Inside, a small boy grips the bars, looking out at us in pure terror.

"Ethan!" Meghan says, moving forward, only to be stopped by one of Machina's cables.

"Meggie." Ethan says, his voice echoing around the room. Like I said, I'm not a monster, no matter what people may think, and I know how desperate Meghan is to get her brother back. Desperate enough to do something stupid - something she'll live to regret. I growl another curse and try to stand once more. She needs me _now._

"Let him go! He's only a little kid! What do you want with him, anyway?" She asks, furiously.

"My dear, you misunderstand me. I did not take your brother because I wanted him. I did it because I knew it would bring you here." I struggle again, using the fountain as a lever to ease myself up, trying not to draw any unwanted attention to myself. Surprise is my best chance at this point - I don't know whether I'd be able to fight for long, if at all, but the thought that Meghan needs someone with her - someone she can trust to help her - propels me forward, even when the wounds inflicted by the chains that had bound me earlier make my head spin in pain.

"Why?" She demands and I bite back a groan. _Just let it go Meghan - don't antagonise him anymore._ "Why kidnap Ethan? Why not just take me instead? Why drag him into all of this?"

"You were well protected, Meghan Chase. Robin Goodfellow is a formidable bodyguard, and I could not risk taking you without drawing attention to myself and my realm. Fortunately, your brother had no such protection. Better to draw you here, of your own volition, than risk the wrath of Oberon and the Seelie Court. Besides…" Machina's eyes narrowed slightly, although the smile never left his face. "I needed to test you, make certain you were truly the one. If you could not reach my tower on your own, you were not worthy."

"Worthy of what? What do you want, Machina? Whatever it is, just let me take Ethan back to our world. You said you wanted me. Here I am. But let me take my brother home." My heart aches for her and the need to help grows stronger with each passing second. But his next words make me freeze.

"Of course," Machina soothes her. "But first, let us make a deal." I look up at her and see her own surprise matching mine. But underneath that surprise, are the thoughts that I know are running through her mind right now. What can she give him for her brother. That's all the motivation I need to pull myself upright, ignoring the fire that runs through my arms from the burns on my hands. They're not important right now.

"Meghan don't," I tell her.

"What kind of deal?" She asks and I curse softly. Stubborn, irritating, annoying human! Why won't she listen to me? Why can't she see that whatever he wants will be too much for her to give? Machina steps forward, the cables on his cloak running over her arms and face.

"I've watched you for sixteen years," he murmured, "waiting for the day you would finally open your eyes and see us. Waiting for the day you would come to me. Your father would have blinded you to this world forever. He is afraid of your power, afraid of your potential—a half-fey who is immune to iron, yet has the blood of the Summer King in her veins. So much potential." His gaze found me and I glared at him as best as I could before dismissing me and continuing with his speech. "Mab realized your power, which is why she wants you so much. Which is why she sent her best to capture you. But even she cannot offer what I can." Machina takes another step forward and takes Meghan hand in his. I watch in horror as she listens to his words, almost enchanted by what he's telling her. "I want you to be my queen, Meghan Chase. I offer you my kingdom, my subjects, myself. I want you to rule at my side. The oldbloods are obsolete. Their time is done. It is time for a new order to rise up, stronger and better than the ancient ones. Only say yes, and you will live forever, Queen of the Fey. Your brother can go home. I'll even let you keep your prince if you wish, though I fear he may not adapt well to our kingdom. Regardless, you belong here, at my side. Isn't that what you've always wanted? To belong?"

Queen? He wants Meghan to rule? I may not know her quite as well as Goodfellow, but even I know that ruling over a Court is not something Meghan would ever buy into. It's not something she's interested in. She doesn't want power or fame or attention. She wants love and family and friends. And yet, as I watch, I see her consider his offer. She actually stops to think about it and I can almost see the thoughts ticking over in her mind. My heart stops beating for a moment until I see her blink and her eyes clear slightly and I breathe a small sigh of relief.

"What if I refuse?" Good Meghan, turn him down. Don't give him what he wants.

"Then your prince will die. And your brother will die. Or, perhaps, I will make him one of my playthings, half human, half machine. The eradication of the oldbloods will begin with or without you, my dear. I am giving you the choice of leading it or being consumed by it." What? How can he use that argument against her? Meghan has been in Faery a week at most - why should she care what happens here? But even underneath my frantic questioning I know why Machina has told her that. Because of Puck and maybe even me. Because she cares what happens to us, even if she's not going to be here to see it. "Is it really so terrible to rule, my love?" he asked, tilting her chin up to look at him. I promptly ignored the flash of jealousy that ran through me at the gesture. "Throughout millennia, both humans and fey have done it. Weeded out the weak to make room for the strong. The oldbloods and the iron fey cannot exist together, you know this. Oberon and Mab would destroy us if they knew about us. How is that any different?" He brushed a kiss over my lips, feather light and vibrating with energy. "Come. One word, that is all you have to say. One word to send your brother home, to save the prince that you love. Look." He waved a hand, and a great iron archway rose out of the ground. On the other side, I could see my house, shimmering through the portal, before it faded from view. I gasped, and Machina smiled. "I will send him home now, if you only say yes. One word, and you will be my queen, forever." Meghan takes a deep breath and I know, I just know she's going to agree. To save her brother, to save Puck, to save me. I can almost follow her thought process - if I'm here, then maybe I can do something to stop it. But I won't let her sacrifice herself. Before she can say anything, I push myself off of the fountain and push her out of the way. In the back of my mind, I know that I have seconds to do something, anything, to help Meghan. I'm not entirely sure how I managed to lunge towards Machina and manage to stab the blade of my sword deep into his chest. But I manage it.

Machina staggers back, away from the both of us, his face no longer a picture of calm composure, but one of agony. _It's not a nice feeling huh?_ His cables thrash wildly behind him and I know what's coming even before they move towards me but I don't move - I'm not completely sure if I can anymore. I'm flung against a metal tree and the world swims around me as my back spasms again in pain. Before I can sink into the blackness threatening to overcome me, I'm picked up by a cable coiled around my throat.

"I am losing my patience with you my dear," Machina says as I desperately struggle for air. Distantly, I can hear Ethan crying and I don't blame him. At this point, I'd quite like to curl up somewhere quiet and alone to recover. "Rule with me, or let them die. Make your choice." I look over at Meghan, hoping to tell her it's okay - to do what she has to do to survive. But when I look over at her, she's on her knees and I don't have to be looking at her face to know that her heart is being split in two. This is the problem that I highlighted back at Chillsorrow mansion - if there is a choice between saving your brother and letting me die, could you do it? I knew it then, and I know it now. She can't. And, if I'm being honest with myself, I couldn't let her go now either. As I watch her though, I can sense a trickle of glamour running over her. The edge of my vision is going black but I force myself to watch her, to watch what she's doing. She takes a deep breath and I can feel her pull. Immediately, the ground beneath us rumbles and roots shoot out of the floor, making Machina drop me in alarm. I drop to the floor hard, panting heavily from the lack of air. I grab the hilt of my blade from where Machina threw it earlier and shove myself up, holding back the multitude of curse words filtering through my head as I do so. I watch as Meghan lunges to the side for something but a cable shoots out and wraps around her ankle, dragging her back towards Machina. She claws at the ground in an attempt to stop the inevitable from happening, but he's too strong for her.

I push myself forward once more, bringing my blade down on the offending cable. More tentacles make their way towards me, but I'm finally doing something useful and I stand my ground, slashing the blade across them, cutting them down.

"Go," I tell Meghan through gritted teeth. "I'll hold them back. Go!" She scrambles away to the tree where the Witchwood arrow was last seen and I know what she's looking for. What she's hoping for. She grabs one of the halves of wood and turns round, locking eyes with me. That's all the distraction Machina needs to strike my shoulder and pin me down. I try to cut this cable down as well, but it's useless. What little energy I have left is rapidly diminishing. All I can do is watch as Meghan takes her chance and lunges towards Machina. A swell of pride runs through me as I watch, but it quickly disappears and is replaced by horror when she's pierced from behind. Her face is frozen for a second in shock, as Machina brings her up to face him.

"I would have made you a queen," he muttered, reaching a hand to me. The roots circling his torso, pinning his other arm, tightened around him, but he didn't seem to notice. "I would have given you everything. Why reject such an offer?" I can't hear what Meghan's answer is, but I can see her raising her arm and plunging what's left of the Witchwood arrow deep into his chest. Machina arches his head back in a silent scream and, when the cable pinning me down goes slack, I give in briefly to the growing darkness. When I next open my eyes a few moments later, Meghan has managed to free her brother, and is holding him close to her. I push myself back to my feet and stagger towards her.

"Meghan!" Behind me, I can hear the door open, signalling the guards return but I barely spare them a second glance. Just enough to ascertain that they won't try anything. It doesn't seem like it - they're all enraptured by a still writhing Machina, watching as branches appear from his chest as a huge oak tree appears from his now still form.

"Wow," Meghan says. With their King dead, the guards behind us remember why they're here and turn on us with a roar, but, before they can do anything, the ground trembles again, destroying the iron throne and making everyone lose their footing.

"The whole tower's coming down!" I yell as I dodge a falling beam, clutching my shoulder in agony. "We have to get out of here, now!" Meghan doesn't need telling twice. Together, we run towards the iron archway, going as fast as we dare as the ground beneath us does it's best to trip us up. Meghan gazes around wildly, obviously expecting something different to happen. A grey tail catches my attention, seconds before a familiar voice says,

"Human. This way. Hurry."

"I thought you weren't coming," Meghan says as we follow him across the courtyard. Grimalkin snorts at her.

"Trust you to take the hardest route possible. If you had only listened to me, I would have shown you an easier way. Now, hurry. This air is making me sick." _Welcome to my world_ I think to myself as we dive between the archway and I finally give in to the darkness that has been threatening to overcome me since I first came round.

* * *

I groan, blinking in the sunlight. I'm lying on the floor of a long room filled with desks. A school room? I push myself upright, waiting for the flare of pain to start up, except it never comes. Next to me, Meghan is out cold, her blonde hair spilling across her face as she sleeps and Ethan looks equally peaceful curled up under a desk.

"There you are Prince, I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever wake up." I roll my eyes as I stand, making my way over to the window where Grimalkin is perched.

"Where are we?" I ask quietly; not wanting to disturb the rooms other occupants.

"The human's old school. It seems quite fitting I think, that we should end up back here." I don't question any further and we fall into silence for a moment. "So Prince, what are you going to do now?" Grim asks. I sigh and rake my hand through my hair.

"I take the princess back to Tir Na Nog as agreed," I say quietly, my heart throbbing painfully at the mere thought of Meghan being trapped in the Unseelie Court. Why I ever allowed myself to make that bargain with her is beyond me. Meghan sighs softly in her sleep and I can't stop the small smile from creeping onto my face at the sight. "I have some things I need to take care of, will you stay here with them?" I ask the cat softly. Grimalkin blinks at me but nods.

"I'll make sure they wake up Prince. I assume you will meet them at the humans old house. I nod once and walk towards the door, pausing only for a moment next to Meghan, to brush the long blonde strands out of the way so I can see her face. I stay there for a moment longer before forcing myself to leave the room and make arrangements to get back to Tir Na Nog, the image of Meghan's peaceful face haunting my every thought as I do so.

* * *

 **So here is the last moment in Book 1 from Ash's POV - next time we'll be on to Book 2! Let me know what you think so far guys - I hope the ending of this piece was okay. It took me a while and I'm not completely happy with how it has ended but oh well. There should be at least one more update sometime this week, but I'm not sure when it will be - real life etc, etc. Enjoy guys xxx**


	7. Spill Your Guts

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the dialogue - they belong to the wonderful Julie Kagawa. I'm just playing with them a little bit ;)**

* * *

 **Spill Your Guts**

I wander around court aimlessly, unable to stop thinking about Meghan. I knew when I told her in the cave that we couldn't be seen together here, she didn't fully understand. I don't think I really expected her to. When she thinks of family, she thinks of love and laughter - not plots and sabotage. I don't think there's been a moment where I haven't regretted making that stupid deal with her. She doesn't belong here - she doesn't _deserve_ to be here. My only saving grace in all of this is that she rarely leaves her room. Tiaothin is keeping an eye on her for me, and is particularly disgruntled that Meghan doesn't want to do anything 'fun'. You can say what you want about Meghan Chase - she's a fast learner. If she continues to do what she is doing - keeping out of the way of everyone here - then she might actually make it out of here alive.

I head out into the courtyard, the icy wind biting my skin even through my long coat. It's a welcome change from inside the palace though so I welcome the cold wind. I embrace it. Until I hear Rowan's voice from across the yard. My heart sinks a little - is it too much to ask to have a few minutes away from my brother? Apparently so. I debate turning around and heading back inside but then I hear _her_ and my heart freezes. No. She is not talking to Rowan. She is locked away in her room, as safe as she can be in Tir Na Nog, because if she is out here talking to my brother then she is dancing with death. I abandon any attempts of going back inside and hurry over to where I hear them talking. I stop just short of them, watching from behind a frost covered tree. Meghan looks terrified; her hands are locked over her mouth as she backs away from my brother. I watch in horror as Rowan snaps his fingers lazily and the snow around Meghan's boots starts to harden, locking her in place. The ice steadily makes it's way up her legs and past her waist, and even from here I can see Meghan begin to shake from the cold.

"I can make it stop you know," Rowan says taking a bite from an apple. His back may be to me, but I know without a doubt that he is wearing the look of a predator when it knows it's prey is trapped. "All you have to do is answer a few innocent questions, that's all. I don't know why you're being so difficult, unless, of course, you have something to hide. Who are you trying to protect, half-breed?" And I suddenly understand what Rowan has done. He knows that Meghan is special - every fey inside and out of the Nevernever knows she's special - and he also knows that I'm omitting some of the truths of my adventure with Meghan. And the one thing Rowan hates more than me, is not knowing something. Being out of the loop in Tir Na Nog can get you killed. If you don't hear about the group of red caps that are having a feast in the southern part of court, then you're likely to be eaten. It's dangerous for anyone to not be in the loop; for a prince, it's a disgrace. Meghan begins to shake more violently now, hard enough that she cannot support her hands covering her mouth and they fall away. I take a step forward, more than ready to end this torture. She doesn't deserve this. Even as I raise my hand to break the ice trapping her, I hear her whisper my name and my heart breaks. Because I know that as soon as I make myself known to Rowan, I'm going to have to treat her in the same way that my brother is. Like she's a nobody. Like I don't think about her every second of every day, wondering and hoping she's okay. Relying on Tiaothin to fill me in on how she's doing. I push those feelings aside, knowing that what I'm about to do is going to save her. By acting cold and distant, I'm saving her life. The cage surrounding her shatters and I step out from my hiding place.

"Ash," Rowan says with a smile. It takes everything in me not to grab Meghan and run; to school my face into the cold mask that I wear whenever I stay at court. "What a coincidence. Come and join us little brother. We were just talking about you." I hate it when he calls me little brother, so it's not difficult to fake my irritation at him.

"What are you doing Rowan? Mab told us not to bother the half-breed."

"Me? Bother her?" I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes at the innocent look Rowan pulls - he's not fooling anyone and he knows it.

"I'm never a bother. We were just having a scintillating conversation. Weren't we, Princess? Why don't you tell him what you just told me?" I can't help but look at her now. What has she told him? Has she said anything about our time in the iron realm? She can't have - if she had said anything, Rowan would be with Mab right now, telling her everything. Meghan opens her mouth to say something but her eyes widen in fear and she claps her hands back over her mouth as if to stop herself from speaking. A glimmer of an idea forms in my mind as I watch her and my stomach drops as I begin to piece together what Rowan's done to her. "Oh, come now, Princess, don't be shy," Rowan says slyly. "You seemed to have a lot to say about our dearest boy Ash, here. Go on and tell him." Meghan glares at Rowan with a hatred that until now, I wouldn't have said she possessed. At least we know Rowan's talent for annoying everyone in a ten mile radius is still going strong. Meghan sways slightly but instead of focusing on her, my gaze narrows in on something lying on the ground next to her. I walk over to it and hold it up - a spotted toadstool, a bite mark exposing the white flesh inside, mocking me. I don't say anything - I can't. Of all the things for Rowan to do, I never thought he'd stoop to this. I hold the toadstool up and, forcing myself to act distant and closed off, raise an eyebrow in question. Rowan sighs as if explaining why he's going round giving Spill Your Guts to the princess is a tiresome chore for him.

"Mab didn't specifically say we couldn't use spill-your-guts," he says, shrugging. "Besides, I think you'd be most interested in what our Summer princess has to say about you." My heart clenches because I can just imagine what she's said. The same things that I've been thinking since the guards picked us up in that cave on the borders of Tir Na Nog.

"Why should I be?" I ask, pretending to be bored by the entire business. "This conversation isn't important. I made the bargain to get her here, and now it's done. Anything I said or did was for the purpose of bringing her to court." Meghan gasps but I carry on regardless of her - I have to - because Rowan has to know there is nothing between us. Nothing can be left for him to latch on to if Meghan wants him to leave her alone. "Mab doesn't care how I did it, as long as the goal was accomplished. Which is more than I can say for you." I cross my arms and shrug at him, knowing it will infuriate him. "Now, if we're quite done here, the half-breed should return inside. The queen will not be pleased if she freezes to death." I turn away before I do something really stupid, like knock my brother out and take Meghan far away from here. Rowan doesn't say anything and I dare to hope that the matter is done with.

"Ash!"

"Dammit," I mutter, low enough for no one else to hear.

"Wait!" She calls. I ache to turn to face her, to tell her that everything's going to be okay. "Ash! I love you!" My stomach drops and I fight the urge to curse. I know without looking that Rowan is wearing the biggest grin because he knows he's won. Which means I'm going to have to do the one thing I never truly wanted to do. I'm going to have to break Meghan completely. And, in the process, it's going to break me. I steel myself, clenching my fists so hard that my nails dig into my palm, drawing blood.

"That's unfortunate for you, isn't it?" I say, careful to keep my voice dead, even as a part of my heart that was revived by the appearance of the Summer princess, breaks. "But the Summer Court has always been weak. Why would I touch the half-breed daughter of Oberon? Don't make me sick, human." Behind me, I hear her fall to the ground, snow crystals crunching under her weight and I wonder if she is as cold as I am right now.

"Oh, that was cruel, Ash," Rowan says, like his entire year has just been made. "I do believe you broke our poor princess's heart."

"Are you happy now Rowan?" I ask coldly. "Now you've got what you wanted? You wanted her broken, didn't you? You didn't have to use me as an instrument in that."

"But you're the only person who would, little brother." He says, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Uh-oh." I turn to face him and open my mouth to say something, when I catch sight of what's made my brother turn a little paler. Meghan, lying on the snow, her usual white blonde hair, turning dark as the snow saturates it. I stalk over to her and turn her, as roughly as I can make myself, to see her eyes are closed.

"Well done brother." I say, scooping Meghan into my arms with an added eye roll just for added effect. "What are you going to tell Mab?" I don't hang around waiting for him to answer. Meghan's lips are already tinged with blue, and my only concern is getting her inside, where it's marginally warmer.

* * *

Needless to say, Mab wasn't best pleased with Rowan when we entered the throne room with an unconscious princess. I stand to the side, letting the court healer poke and prod Meghan as best they can as she lays in my arms as Rowan promises Mab that he had absolutely no idea the princess would react in this way to a simple mushroom. Everyone in the throne room, including Mab, knows that he's stretching the truth but, as usual, Mab says nothing other than repeating her instructions to leave the half-breed alone, unless specifically invited. As soon as we're dismissed I head towards Meghan's room, my blood pounding in my skull as I look down at her. Even unconscious she doesn't look at peace and yet another piece of my heart breaks for her. She doesn't deserve this. It's my fault for agreeing to that idiotic bargain. I knew full well what would happen to her when we got here but I made the deal anyway, eager for another gold star next to my name in Mab's books. I lay her down under the covers, pulling them up to her chin and smoothing back her hair. I don't have long before the healer returns with herbs and remedies to try and lift whatever spell has Meghan trapped like this, and I'm determined to not waste a second. I light the fire in the grate, coaxing the blue flames into life until they fill the room with an uncomfortable heat. I turn back to face her, part of me hoping to find her watching me, smiling at me, telling me that she forgives me for what I've done to her. Even though I know that that won't happen - to see her beautiful blue eyes watching me or for her to forgive me for what I've done - I can't help but be disappointed when her eyes remain stubbornly cold. I walk over to her and squeeze her hand gently, opening my mouth to say something, anything to her, when there's a sharp rap at the door. I sigh and stalk over to it, settling the cold, blank mask in place before opening the door.

"Your Highness," the healer says, his eyes permanently fixed on the floor.

"Make sure the half-breed survives," I tell him as he shuffles past me.

"Yes, Your Highness," he murmurs, turning to start his work on Meghan. I watch him for a second longer before leaving him to it, leaving behind a silent prayer for the girl lying on the bed. _Please hold on for me Meghan. Don't give up on me now._

* * *

Over the next few days, I can't go anywhere in the court without hearing about Meghan. From all the gossip and the updates I'm getting from Tiaothin, it seems that my silent prayer from that first day has gone unheard by the girl who has stolen my heart. The only saving grace is that Rowan has grown bored of Meghan now that she's been rendered unconscious and so hasn't been causing trouble. But from what Tiathoin has been telling me, Meghan isn't getting any better. It doesn't matter what the healer gives her, nothing's working. So, even though everything in me is telling me not to, I start slipping into her room when no one's there. I never touch her, just stand in the corner and watch her, just to make sure she's still here, that she hasn't left me yet. It doesn't matter how much warmth the fire's throwing out, she's still abnormally pale, her arms covered in goose bumps no matter how many blankets are piled on top, and she's never quiet. She moans softly and her eyes dart underneath her closed eye lids. Whatever she's dreaming about, it's obviously not pleasant. The lack of food or water means that she's losing weight as well, and everyday that I come to see her, she seems to be worse than the day before. I wait and watch, torturing myself by not reaching out and holding her hand, or brushing back the hair that's spread out on the pillow, until one day I can't stop myself. I kneel next to the bed and take a deep breath.

"Meghan," I say softly."Don't do this. If you don't come out of this soon, you'll fade away and drift forever. Fight it. Come back to us." She stirs briefly and my heart soars, until her shoulders relax and she sinks back into the pillows, sinking into oblivion once more. I can't help the sob that escapes me at the sight of my stubborn Meghan, lying pale and helpless on the bed, because of me. "Please," I say desperately, holding her hand tightly. "I know what you must think of me, but…" I break off and take a deep breath to try and calm myself down. It doesn't work. "Don't leave," I whisper. "Meghan, don't go. Come back to me." I brush a light kiss on her cheek before I can stop myself and I push myself to my feet and force myself to walk away. I lock the door to my room and collapse onto my bed, burying my face into my own pillow. What have I got myself into? There's only one thing that's certain - Meghan can't stay here much longer. Her health and my sanity rest on her leaving. Soon.

* * *

 **I'm so sorry - I'm such a bad writer. Here is the promised update from like a month ago - I hope it doesn't disappoint. I'm so sorry it's taken so long but I've been on a 3 week holiday and I just haven't been in a writing mood lately, but I hope to get back into some sort of schedule now. Let me know what you think - this is one of my favourite scenes in the Iron Daughter so I hope I did it justice. xx**


	8. Winter has Come

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the dialogue - they belong to the wonderful Julie Kagawa. I'm just playing with them a little bit ;)**

* * *

 **Winter Has Come**

I stay in the shadows during the exchange. Close enough to keep an eye on Meghan and for Mab to see me but far enough away that I'm unlikely to be bothered by anyone. I keep my eyes trained on Meghan throughout the exchange of the scepter, my heart lodged in my throat. Looking at her now, dressed in black and staring at Rowan with dark, expressionless eyes; it's hard to believe that I'm looking at the same girl who looked at me so tenderly and cried when she thought I was dead, when most fey would have just shrugged and moved on. That Meghan is definitely not the same girl I'm watching now. This Meghan, the one that has lived through phase one of Rowan's games, and lived under Mab's thumb knowing full well she could be killed or tortured at any time if Mab gets sick of her...this Meghan is harder than the one that I knew before. And the thing that kills me the most? Is that I'm the one who instigated the change. She didn't understand - I knew she didn't understand when I tried to warn her about how I would have to act here - but I ignored my own feelings, pushing them down, forcing them away in the hopes that if I could pretend that they didn't exist then they would disappear. All I've succeeded in doing is making both Meghan and myself thoroughly miserable. I watch Meghan's reaction to the entire spectacle, taking a sick thrill when she winces at the death of the young summer fey. I think that's the first real emotion she's shown this entire evening, which is terrifying. The girl who wears her heart on her sleeve, who always lets me know exactly how she's feeling - is blocking me and everyone out. I've gotten what I wanted. She's now protected, at least in part, against the Unseelie. As Oberon climbs back into his carriage and pulls away, my plan to stay hidden in the shadows and watch Meghan is interrupted.

"Enjoying the party little brother?" Rowan drawls, as he leans up against the wall beside me.

"I was," I mutter. Rowan chuckles darkly.

"Our little sleeping beauty seems to have a thing for Princes of Winter wouldn't you agree?" He nods to where Meghan is now talking to Sage. I raise an eyebrow at the sight. I can understand why Rowan went to harass Meghan but Sage? What could he possibly want with Meghan? Whatever he's saying to her, she doesn't look convinced and I thank whoever may be watching over her for that small mercy. Sage is probably the nicest out of the three of us but not even he can be trusted in this place. My joy is short lived as Meghan gestures with her hand before taking Sage's arm and walking away, his wolf trailing beside them.

"Well, I wonder what our big brother wants with the half-breed," Rowan says, grabbing a champagne flute made entirely of ice from a passing tray and taking a sip.

"I don't know Rowan, nor do I care," I say, forcing myself to focus on keeping my voice calm, and emotionless, despite my mind reeling after Meghan and Sage.

"Of course not little brother, I wasn't suggesting that at all," he says with a smirk.

"What do you want Rowan?"

"Am I not allowed to check on my little brother's well being anymore?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Since when have you ever gone to the trouble of 'checking my well being' before? Ever?"

"I'm turning over a new leaf." I scoff, ignoring the glare he sends my way.

"This is the first time I've seen you leave your room since the half-breed had her unfortunate...accident." Accident. Yeah, right.

"Just because you haven't seen me, doesn't mean I haven't left my room. It's not my problem that you are spectacularly unobservant when your attentions are elsewhere."

"That's a pretty little speech brother, but you see, I know that it's not entirely true. You have left your room, yes, but you don't go past the library and you haven't even thought about heading back out into the Wyldwood. You've been here what, three weeks? Four? That's a long time for you to stay cooped up here Ash."

"Have you considered the idea that maybe I'm relishing sleeping in a bed rather than on the floor?" I ask calmly, despite my heart rate picking up slightly. I hadn't given much thought to my behaviour over the last few weeks while Meghan has been unconscious; I've been too worried about her. Of course Rowan would notice I kept to myself even more than usual. He's almost as bad as Mab with his spies. They're everywhere and I should have known he'd have someone watching me. I'm just lucky I seem to have gotten away with sneaking into Meghan's room those few times I just couldn't stay away any longer.

"It's never seemed to bother you before," Rowan says, tipping the rest of the alcohol back in one go.

"No, I've just never mentioned it to you. It might surprise you to know Rowan that every couple of centuries, I do begin to crave sleeping in a bed, rather than on the floor of a cave. There, does that please you?" He laughs darkly.

"No need to be so testy little brother, I was just asking." I push away from the wall, my nerves on edge.

"Yes, well, in future Rowan, don't." I walk away from my brother before he has chance to reply. I head around the edge of the castle, keeping an eye out for Meghan and Sage. Sage's presence has unsettled me. He normally doesn't get too involved in the feuds between Rowan and I, after so long with both of us, he's found it easier to just stay out of the way until everything blows over and we've gone back to silently glaring at each other. For him to actively seek Meghan out - the person who has caused yet another...disagreement, between me and Rowan is unlike him. And it worries me. I don't have to walk for long before I get a lead. A shriek comes from within the palace, followed by someone (Tiaothin?) screaming,

"He's dead! He's dead! Prince Sage has been killed!" I freeze in place for a moment. Sage, dead? He can't be. I've never been disillusioned - I know my oldest brother isn't invincible, but he puts up a good front. For someone to get through the guards AND his wolf and then him? They would have to be an incredible marksman. It doesn't take a second more for my brain to wander to the one person I've actually been searching for all this time and for my heart to miss a beat. Meghan was with Sage. If Sage is dead then...is Meghan dead too? That thought propels me forward, back the way I've come towards the entrance where a steady stream of fey are pushing their way through the doors, all thoughts of celebrating the changing of the seasons pushed aside for a moment. I push my way through the doors and follow the crowds to the throne room, hoping to catch Meghan before Mab and Rowan arrives. Elbowing my way into the room though, I realise I'm too late - Rowan has already arrived and his guards are pinning Meghan between them. She's shouting something at my brother but he doesn't pay attention to her. Instead he stands over our oldest brother, no emotion on his face. He could be looking at anyone and for one second, I let the anger I didn't know I carried until I met Meghan consume me. I might not like most of the Seelie fey, but they at least would show some sort of remorse or emotion at the death of one of their royalty. We don't. Unseelie shout and yell but not because Sage is dead – because he died in the castle. Right under their nose. For one second, I hope for the impossible. For Mab to come in and show some sort of emotion for her lost son because, while Sage and I were never close, he helped me out more than I will ever care to admit, especially when I was younger. I will never be able to repay him. Almost as if my thoughts has conjured her, Mab steps through the door, killing the shouts of the fey around me. I press closer to the wall so that she doesn't spot me. I know that she won't cry or mourn her son, not really, but she will be mad. And when my mother is mad, it's best for everyone to stay out of her way. New icicles start forming from the ceiling as she walks through the room, parting the crowd effortlessly. She bends over her dead son, her face as expressionless as her now oldest son. From my vantage point, I see her mouth something, but I'm too far away to see what. I don't have to wonder for long though.

She screams, shattering the ice that has spread across the room, making everyone in the crowd, including me, duck from the flying shards. Beside me, the floor cracks, a hole opening up, dropping several unfortunate fey into the darkness. They might be the lucky ones.

"Oberon!" She screams and even from here I can see the crazy gleam in her eyes. "He did this! This is his revenge! Oh, Summer will pay! They will pay until they are screaming for mercy, but they will find no pity among the Winter Court! We will repay this heinous act in kind, my subjects! Prepare for war!" My stomach drops. I don't know who killed Sage, but I'm pretty sure Oberon wasn't behind it – he has nothing to gain from Sage's death. Oberon may be a lot of things, but he isn't stupid enough to start a war with Winter over this.

"No!" Meghan says, her voice almost lost in the yells. But I hear her. And my stomach drops in fear when she fights her way out of the guards grip and stumbles forward.

 _"Don't do it Meghan," I mutter to myself. "Mab is not in the mood to be dealing with you right now. You're going to end up getting yourself killed and I won't be able to stop it."_

But, of course, my stubborn, naïve Meghan doesn't stop to think about the logic of what she's about to do. She just does it. Not for the first time, I curse the effect Goodfellow has probably had on Meghan's personality.

"Queen Mab," I gasps, and I curse as she flinches back when Mab turns to face her. "Please, listen to me! Oberon didn't do this! The Summer Court didn't kill Sage, it was the Iron King. The Iron fey did this!" The logic falls into place in my mind. Oberon has no need for the sceptre – the changing of the seasons happens twice a year after all and six months in the grand scheme of things is not long at all to wait. But the Iron King – or whoever is running the Iron fey now – would love to get their hands on that power. By taking the sceptre from us, whoever has it will cause chaos, both here and in the human world. It's a sure fire way of getting the two courts to fight against each other. Everyone knows it doesn't take much to set the courts against each other. Of course, Mab doesn't know this.

"Be silent!" She hisses at Meghan, making me wince. "I will not listen to your pathetic attempts to protect your wretched family, not when the Summer King threatened me in my own court. Your sire has murdered my son, and you will be silent, or I will forget myself and give him an eye for an eye!" I beg Meghan to take note of the dismissal that is clear to everyone else in the room. Everyone that is, except Meghan.

"But, it's true!" She continues, glancing around the room. I know she's looking for me, but I can't help her now. Not without revealing how much she means to me. Instead I shrink back into the shadows although my heart aches to do it. I'm not expecting her to turn to Rowan though – desperate times and all that. "Rowan, please. Help me out. I'm not lying, you know I'm not." I bite back a groan because she's just given the perfect opening. Indeed, Rowan curls his mouth into his trade mark smirk and says,

"It isn't nice to deceive the queen, Princess," he said, looking grim apart from the sneer in his eyes. "If these Iron fey were a threat, we would have seen them by now, don't you think?"

"But they do exist!" She says, panic consuming her voice now. "I've seen them, and they are a threat!" I turned back to Mab. "What about the huge, fire-breathing iron horse that almost killed your son? You don't think that's a threat? Call Ash, he was there when we fought Ironhorse and Machina. He'll back me up." This time I can't quite conceal the groan. Why? Why did she have to bring me up? Mab is already questioning my sanity after that tedious journey across the Nevernever on the search for the Iron Kingdom, she doesn't need reminding of that now.

"Enough!" Mab screeches, whirling to face Meghan and I know in my heart what is about to happen now. "Half-breed, you go too far! Your line has already robbed me of a son, and you will not touch another! I know you seek to turn my youngest against me with your blasphemous claims of love, and I will not have it!" She pointed a manicured nail at me, and a flare of blue-white shot between us as I stumbled back. You will be silent, once and for all!" I don't want to watch but I can't look away as the ice grips Meghan's feet and quickly climbs her legs. My heart breaks when I see understanding shoot across her face as she realises what is happening. A fate that I wouldn't wish on Robin Goodfellow – which is saying something. Mab turns away once Meghan is completely encased, to face the crowds.

"Make ready my subjects! The war with Summer starts now!" The crowd cheers, Meghan completely forgotten, as they sweep me back out of the door, leaving her behind. She's just another statue in the throne room now. I let them take me, blending with the crowd until I can duck down a corridor. I watch the fey stream past in the cover of darkness, my mind reeling. It's no longer safe for Meghan – not that it was particularly safe for her in the first place – but now she's made a real enemy of Mab and with Winter declaring war on Summer, she's the first one to be killed if she doesn't leave. Even if she wasn't now on every Unseelie fey's hit list, I'm not going to just leave her in that prison. Once the crowds have disappeared, I duck back down the corridor to the throne room. I stand in the doorway for a second, looking at the ice encasing the girl I've fallen for and I murmur an apology for everything that has happened to her, and everything I'm going to have to do after this. I take a breath and hurry across the floor, resting a hand against the ice.

"Meghan, it's me." I'm not entirely sure why I've just stated the obvious to her, even in this state she'll be able to tell who it is. I see a flicker of hope dance in her eyes as she looks back at me. "Hang on," I say, pressing my forehead against the glass. It seems strange to expose my emotions like this but for her…well, she deserves this much. "I'm getting you out of there," I pull back and rest both hands against the ice, closing my eyes as I pull on the glamour, forcing it into the ice until it breaks like glass shattering. Meghan falls onto her knees, coughing up water and gasping heavily. I kneel beside her, pulling her to my chest tightly. Once she's got her breath back a little, I reluctantly pull away, tugging off my coat and dropping it onto her shoulders, my heart warming slightly when she pulls it closer. At least I can do something to help her. "Can you walk?" I ask her, my voice betraying urgency rather than love and gentleness, emotions she probably needs more of right now. Oh well. "We have to get out of here, now."

* * *

 **I'm so sorry about the delay. I've only just got Word on my new laptop so I've been writing this directly on FanFiction and every time I finished it and went to save it, my internet went and I lost most of it! I'm not too happy with the ending of this and there will definitely be a Part 2 - this is a really long chapter! What I think I'm going to do is write a few chapters and then upload them in bulk so it might take me longer to update, but when I do you can binge read chapters - who doesn't love a good binge read? Please tell me what you think guys and, fingers crossed I'll have another update soon! xxx**


	9. Winter has Come Part II

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the dialogue - they belong to the wonderful Julie Kagawa. I'm just playing with them a little bit ;)**

* * *

 **Winter has Come ~ Part II**

"W-where are we g-going?" Meghan asks, her teeth still chattering from her exposure to the ice. I don't have time to worry about that now though; not when Rowan or Mab could return at any moment and see us. I pull her to her feet without a word, taking tight hold of her wrist and leading her forward.  
"Ash, wait!" She pants, but again I ignore her, continuing to pull her forward. I know better than to expect Meghan to just come with me with no explanation, but I what I don't expect is for her to come to an abrupt stop in the middle of the room, wrenching her wrist from my grasp. I turn to face her, narrowing my eyes in frustration. Why can't she wait until we're away from here – where she's safe? Meghan's eyes flash with a fire that I thought I'd helped to extinguish and there's a part of me that is relieved to see that defiance. The fire that drew me to the Summer Princess in the first place.  
"Where are you taking me?" She demands, and I'll admit, seeing her anger directed at me, no matter how much I deserve it. I rake my hands through my hair, as I try to stamp down on my own fears. I pause before I answer, listening for footsteps coming down the hall.

"Back to Seelie territory," I snap at her. "You can't be here now, not when a war is about to start. I'll get you safely over to your side and then I'm done with this." Meghan's eyes widen, but that is the only outward sign that I've hurt her. Again. I seem to be incredibly good at doing that lately. I want nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and never let her go again but I can't. After helping Meghan to escape, the punishment Mab will lay down on me will be…indescribable. I can't bring any more of Mab's wrath on myself by letting myself indulge the fantasy of having a life with Meghan. No matter how much I might want to. It's easier for both of us if this is established now. It doesn't matter how much it hurts both of us.

"Why should I trust you?" She snaps back. This takes me aback for a moment before I realise just how badly I've hurt her if she thinks she can't trust me at all. I think back on our few encounters here and I realise, perhaps for the first time, that she's right. I've given her no reason to trust me but she has to. And she has to trust me fast, before someone comes to see where I've gone. Meghan doesn't stop though, and I make no move to stop her either because I know I deserve to hear every syllable that comes out of her mouth. "You've misled me from the beginning. Everything you said, everything we did, that was all a ploy to bring me here. You set me up from the very start." My heart clenches at the words she clearly believes to be true.

"Meghan-" I start before she interrupts.

"Shut up! I hate you!" I can't stop the flinch as her words hit home. She should hate me, it will make everything easier for her, even if a selfish part of me wishes she wouldn't. "You're a real piece of work, you know? Is this a game you like to play? Make the stupid human girl fall for you and then laugh as you rip her heart out? You knew what Rowan was doing, and you didn't do anything to stop it!"

"Of course not!" I interrupt, my own anger cancelling out the affection I have for the girl in front of me. "Do you know what Rowan would do if he found out…what we did? Do you know what Mab would do? I had to make them believe I didn't care, or they would've torn you apart." He sighed wearily, giving me a solemn look. "Emotions are a weakness here, Meghan. And the Winter Court preys on the weak. They would've hurt you to get to me. Now, come on. Let's get out of here before it's too late." I take her hand and thankfully, this time she lets me. It seems my argument might have sunk in – I can only hope. Unfortunately, while I've been arguing with the stubborn girl in front of me, I stopped listening out for anyone coming our way.

"I'm afraid it's already too late," Rowan's amused voice says from behind me, making me freeze for a moment before I shake myself sharply and pull Meghan behind me as I turn to face my brother. "I'm afraid your time just ran out."

"Hello Ash," he says cheerfully as strolls into the room. "And what, may I ask, are you doing with the half-breed? Could it be you're actually helping her escape? Oh dear, what a dreadfully treasonous idea you've come up with. I'm sure Mab will be quite disappointed in you." I stay quiet, letting Rowan continue with his monologue as I desperately try to come up with a way to get both Meghan and I out of here without leaving a trail of bodies behind us. As Rowan gets closer, I squeeze Meghan's hand tighter, although I'm not sure who I'm trying to reassure – me or her. "So, little brother," Rowan continues, "I'm curious. What made you risk everything for our wayward princess here?" Again, I stay silent, hoping to infuriate him into leaving. I should know better. "Don't be stubborn, little brother. You might as well tell me, before Mab tears you limb from limb and banishes you from Tir Na Nog. What is the price of such loyal obedience? A contract? A promise? What is the little harlot giving you to betray your entire court?" I bristle at the insult to Meghan – she is anything but a harlot – but instead of answering in the way I know Rowan wants me to, I settle the familiar cold, indifferent mask into place, even if it might be completely useless at this point.

"Nothing," I say coldly, but Sage's death, my fight with Meghan, and now my impromptu meeting with Rowan has left my mask dented and cracked, and I can hear the tremor beneath the indifference in my voice. Apparently, Rowan can hear it to.

"I can't believe it," Rowan gasps, raising an eyebrow at me in disbelief. "You're in love with the Summer whelp!" He pauses waiting for me to deny it and, when I stay silent, he bursts into laughter. "Oh, this is rich. This is too perfect. I thought the half-breed was a fool, pining for the unattainable Ice prince, but it seems I was wrong. Ash, you've been holding out on us." Again, I bristle at his words, and tighten my grip on Meghan, taking a moment to try and compose myself.

"I'm taking her back to Arcadia. Get out of our way, Rowan." That shuts him up.

"Oh, I don't think so, little brother. When Mab finds out, you'll both be decorating the courtyard. If she's feeling merciful, maybe she'll freeze you two together. That would be tragically fitting, don't you think?" Behind me, Meghan shudders at the thought of returning to that prison and I don't blame her. Being trapped like that isn't a fate I would wish on anyone. Meghan squeezes _my_ hand this time, as if to reassure me that that fate isn't going to happen to either of us; and when she presses her face into my shoulder, it gives me the strength I need to consider doing the unthinkable.

"Of course," Rowan prattles on, scratching the side of his face, "you could always beg forgiveness, drag the half-breed to the queen, and still be in Mab's favour. In fact, if you go to Mab right now and turn over the princess, I'll even keep my mouth shut about what I saw here. She won't hear a peep out of me, I swear." Yeah right. Just because he won't tell Mab, doesn't mean he won't get someone else to tell Mab for him. I'm not completely clueless. Rowan leans casually against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest. "Come on little brother," he says. "You know it's for the best. There are only two choices here. Hand over the princess, or die with her." I take a breath, steeling myself for what I'm about to do.

"No," I whisper, barely able to cope with what I'm about to do. "There is one more." I squeeze Meghan's hand one more time before releasing her and step forward, drawing my sword and pointing it at Rowan. "Get out of the way Rowan," I say firmly. I don't want to do this – no matter how much I might dislike my brother; he is still my brother. My family. Killing him would mean me never returning home – being branded a kinslayer – one of the worst things to be branded. "Move, or I'll kill you." Rowan pushes himself from the door, his eyes glittering with the menace only a hunter can possess. He slowly draws his own sword, bringing it up to meet mine.

"You sure about this, little brother? Will you betray everything—your court, your queen, your own blood—for her? You can't change your mind once you start down this path." I ignore his words, ignore how they sting as they hit their mark and instead, focus on Meghan.

"Meghan," I say softly. "Get back. Don't try to help me." Not that I believe she could do anything that would help once this starts but I know her stubbornness too well.

"Ash-" she starts and, if the situation were different, I'd be hard pressed to hold back a smile at her determination to save me from doing this is just so…Meghan. But she can't do anything to help me or to stop what has to be done and, if I want to get Meghan out of here then Rowan has to go. I take a deep breath to steady myself as I face my brother. This isn't the first time we've fought but it is the first time that we're both aiming to injure or kill. It's also the first time that Sage isn't here to mediate and make sure things don't get out of hand. Him not being here hasn't gone unnoticed – at least by me. I'm not entirely sure Rowan is broken up about our brother's death. In fact, Rowan doesn't look ready to do battle at all, at least to the untrained eye. While I have my sword out in front of me, ready to parry the blow that will come; the tip of his sword is resting on the floor casually. I see the moment he decides I'm serious a second before he opens his mouth.

"All right then. I think I'm going to enjoy this." And then it begins. He lunges for me, giving me seconds to bring my sword up to meet his with a screech. Rowan is and always has been a ruthless opponent. He's not afraid to play dirty in order to win and, in our fights in the courtyard, he normally does. He has more experience in both swordplay and in dirty fighting tactics. I've always given a good fight but, unlike my brother I don't rely on dirty tricks to win my battles. And after years sparring with Robin Goodfellow, I've learnt a lot in dodging surprise attacks. I lunge for his throat but he spins out of the way, lunging his sword forward again before having to jump back before I cut him with my blade. Rowan pauses for a moment, smirking at the tip of his blade, which glistens with red. Behind me, Meghan gasps and I stifle a curse.

"First blood to me little brother," he says. "There's still time to stop this. Turn over the princess and beg for Mab's mercy. And mine." Damn him.

"You have no mercy Rowan," I throw back before lunging at him again. There's no time for second thoughts now and my mind calms and clears so that all I'm focused on is Rowan's next move. Where his sword is going to be, where the shard of ice he's flung at me is going to hit. When his attention is elsewhere, leaving his defences open for me to hit.

There it is.

I grab his arm, letting his momentum carry him forward enough so that I can put him on the floor. To his credit, he doesn't waste time turning onto his back, but for once, I'm faster, and the tip of my sword is already at his throat. He glares at me, panting heavily. Everything is silent for a moment before Rowan lets out a dark chuckle, and spits blood towards my face. I wince, knowing what's coming next.

"Go on then, little brother. Do it. You've betrayed your queen, sided with the enemy, drawn a sword against your own brother…you might as well add slaughtering your family to the list as well. Then you can run off with the half-breed and live out your sordid fantasy. I wonder how Ariella would feel, if she knew how easily she's been replaced." Remembering Ariella, the way her smile would light up the room because she truly saw the beauty hidden deep beneath the darkness tainting Tir Na Nog, despite all those who tried to tear her down. Even up to the last second, right before the endless life drained from her eyes, she still saw that beauty, even as she lay dying in my arms. That Rowan would use the one thing that haunts me every single day against me sets the fire that I've worked hard to press down inside me free.

"Don't talk about her!" I snarl at him, raising the hilt of my sword as the anger surges through me as I think about my lost love. "Ariella is gone. Not a day goes by that I don't think of her, but she's gone, and there's nothing I can do about it." I take a deep breath to try and calm myself – the last thing I need is to cause enough noise that it brings the entire castle down to see what's going on. I can save my anger and pain for when I am alone again – right now, there's no place for it. At least, that's what I try to tell myself.

"Ariella was too good for you," Rowan says, taking advantage of my weakness to push himself up onto his elbows. "You failed her. If you'd really loved her, she would still be here." I flinch at his words, though they're true. I did fail her. I should have fought Puck to listen to Ariella's reasoning that day. If I had done that, if I had pushed my horse a little faster, then maybe she's still be here today. I'd still have her with me. "You never saw what a good thing you had. She's dead because of you, because you couldn't protect her! And now you disgrace her memory with this half breed abomination." I'd forgotten Meghan was here, and now that Rowan has reminded me, I can't help but look at her. She looks terrified – not for herself, but for me. It's been such a long time since anyone has looked at me like that, and guilt eats at me as, yet again, I compare her to Ariella. Am I betraying her? Even as this thought cycles through my mind, Meghan's eyes widen in alarm.

"Ash! Look out!" Before she's finished speaking, I'm moving, cursing myself for losing focus. I know how important it is not to be distracted during a fight – especially during a fight with Rowan. He lunges at me, pulling one of the daggers he was given as a gift a few hundred years ago. It's as familiar to me as my own sword. What isn't familiar to me, is Rowan making a mistake. Rowan lunges too far and his momentum carries him forward. Right onto my blade. Both of us freeze. Despite everything, I never intended to kill Rowan – injure him, yes. But not kill. I stare at the hand holding onto the hilt of my sword as if it belonged to a stranger. Maybe it does. Rowan staggers backwards, dropping his knife as he leans against a wall.

"Congratulations…little brother." He chokes, nodding at me, though I barely register it. "You finally…managed to kill me." Kill him. I killed my brother. In the span of one day I have lost both of my brothers, one by my own hand. Meghan grabs my arm, gripping tight enough to snap me out of my thoughts.

"Ash, someone's coming," she says, worry penetrating her voice. I focus on that – the worry and fear in her voice – to spur me forward and remind me why I've done this. I need to keep Meghan safe. Yes, I failed Ariella, but I will not fail her too.

"Yes, run away with…your half-breed, Ash." Rowan coughs, blood trickling out of his mouth from the force. "Before Mab comes in…and sees that her last son is dead to her. I don't think you can do anything more…to betray your court." My stomach twists with guilt as I look at Rowan – strong, indestructible Rowan. Bleeding. Because of me. Meghan's grip on my arm keeps me grounded though, before those thoughts overtake me again. With one last look at my brother – searing the sight of him into my memory forever, I grab Meghan's hand and run.

I focus on where I'm taking Meghan. If I focus on anything else, we'll be caught and then killing Rowan will have been for nothing. His death has to mean something after all of this. So, I pull Meghan along behind me, listening for the sounds of anyone following us. Luckily, we only have to stop twice before we reach the one place we can stop for a moment. I barely glance at the white silhouette on the front of the door as I pull Meghan through it, shutting it behind me. I let Meghan go with a sigh and lean against the wall, not letting myself look at the neat room in front of me. I come here sometimes, if I want to feel close to her, I'll come and sit here a while. No one disturbs this room by order of the Queen so I know I will always be alone here.

"We should clean those," Meghan says, drawing my attention away from the ceiling to her. She's staring at my shirt which is quickly turning red from the blood loss. Meghan says something else but I don't hear her. I'm not sure I'm looking at her to be honest. One moment, Meghan is standing in front of me, the next it's Ariella, shaking her head in despair as I come to see her, yet again covered in cuts and bruises.

* * *

" _Honestly Ash, what am I going to do with you?" She said, the last time we were in this room together._

" _You have to admit, this isn't as bad as it was last time," I said with a smile, enjoying the feeling of Ariella tending to my wounds, her hands gentle and loving._

" _Well even you'd be hard pressed to top last time Ash. I don't think I've ever seen that much blood come from someone who is still walking." I leaned back and pressed my lips to her neck, enjoying the small smile she gives me, even though I know she's worried about me._

" _You underestimate my abilities Ari."_

" _Not at all. I just worry that you overestimate them."_

* * *

"Ash, do you have any rags or towels lying around? Something to stop the bleeding?" Meghan says, interrupting my memory. I nod to the dresser in the corner.

"Dresser," I say quietly, wanting nothing more than to lay down on the bed and pretend all of this is just a horrible nightmare. "There's a jar of salve in the top drawer. She kept it…for emergencies…" I watch quietly as she rummages in Ariella's drawers; the resemblance between the two of them is striking. From behind, Meghan truly could be Ariella and the thought is both intoxicating and disturbing. She turns around, taking a deep breath, though I'm not sure why. Is she nervous to be alone with me after what she's seen me do?

"Um, I think you'll have to take off your shirt," she whispers. My heart twists at the sound of her. She sounds as if she's talking to a spooked animal. I push myself off the wall, trying not to wince as I put my wound under pressure again, and take off what's left of my shirt. Even with all the memories clouding my head, I have to bite back the smile as Meghan flushes at the sight of my bare chest. Maybe I haven't lost everything.

"Should I sit?" I ask, taking pity on her. For someone who up until a few months ago didn't believe in fey, she's handling everything that's happened to her, not just today but since she came to the Nevernever. She nods and I sink down onto the bed gratefully with my back to her. I feel her kneel behind me before she starts to dab the salve on my shoulder gingerly.

"Don't worry about hurting me," I say quietly as she works. "I'm…fairly used to this." After that, she presses a little more firmly onto my wounds but I don't flinch. Like I told her – I'm used to this. The silence between us stretches until I have to break it. She has to know how I feel about what's happened between us since we arrived at Tir Na Nog.

"I'm sorry," I mutter. I'm not sure she even heard me, the apology was so quiet. But then I feel the cool trickle of what can only be a tear, dropping onto my back. I flinch as it drops down my back. I made her cry. My actions, my words, have hurt her so badly. I never imagined I would care so much about a girls feelings; not after what happened to Ariella. But Meghan seems to have a way of breaking down the walls I've built to protect myself and has made me care about other people. Most importantly, care about her. "Meghan?"

"Why are you apologising?" She asks, her voice shaking from the emotion I can feel pouring off of her. "You already told me why you were being a bastard. You had to protect me from your family and the Winter Court. They were perfectly good reasons." No. They aren't. I know they aren't and she knows it too – even if we don't want to admit it.

"I didn't want to hurt you." I keep my voice quiet, in fear that if I broke the silence anymore, I'd damage things between us even more. "I thought that if I could make you hate me, it would be easier when you returned to your world." I pause, remembering what my life was like before Meghan entered it. I don't want to give her up but I have to. Remembering what happened with Rowan in the courtyard all those days ago and what that has lead up to, steels my resolve in what I have to do now. I might not want to damage what is left of my relationship with Meghan, but I have to. To keep her safe. Despite this, she has to know the truth. "What I said in the courtyard…Rowan would have tormented you even more if he knew." She doesn't say anything, just finishes binding my wounds before picking up the jar and heading over to the dresser. My heart aches at the silence – before, Meghan wouldn't have let this silence stretch between us without a fight. She wouldn't let me do this to…us. I turn around and grab her wrist.

"Meghan. I can't…have feelings for you. Not in the way you want. Whatever happens, Mab is still my queen, and the Winter Court is my home. What happened in Machina's realm…" I frown as I remember what happened there. That amazing night with Meghan, losing her in the mine, not being able to protect her from Machina's wrath. "We have to forget that, and move on. Once I take you to Arcadia's borders and you're safe with Oberon, you won't see me again." She stares at me and I know she's silently pleading with me not to do this. Not now. If I thought, we could get away with it – I would do anything to be with her. She makes my life worth living. But we can't. Mab and Oberon would find out and we would be hunted. There would be nowhere to hide. "I'm sorry," I tell her again, avoiding her eyes. "It's…better this way." I pull away from her.

"No," she says, quietly to begin with. But then the fire that I fell in love with starts to burn once more. "Ash, wait-"

"Don't make this harder." I say, opening the closet and pulling a fresh, grey shirt and shrugging it on, ignoring the stab of pain from my cuts. "I…killed Rowan. I'm a kinslayer. There's nothing left in my future now, so be glad you won't be around to see what happens."

"What will you do?" I grimace at the thought.

"Return to court. Try to forget." Both what I did to Rowan and to her, although I know deep down, I'll never forget either one. "Throw myself on Mab's mercy and hope she doesn't kill me."

"You can't!" The anger that I've tried to stamp down since Rowan was taunting me earlier flares up. I turn to face her, my icy mask back in place for a moment.

"Don't get involved in fey politics, Meghan," he said darkly, shutting the closet door. "Mab will find me, no matter what I do or how far I run. And with the war approaching, Winter will need every soldier it can get. Until Summer returns the scepter, Mab will be relentless." I turn away at the mention of my incredibly uncertain future. But Meghan, of course, has to go and put other ideas and fantasies into my head.

"The scepter. Ash, wait!" She grabs onto my sleeve and I freeze. Why? Why does she insist on breaking these barriers? "It wasn't the Summer Court!" I blurted before he could say anything. "It was the Iron fey. I saw them. It was Tertius, Ash. Tertius killed Sage." I frown.

"Are you sure?" I ask her. These accusations make a lot more sense than Oberon being behind the scepter being stolen. But she has to be sure. She nods, relief flooding onto her face. "Why? Why would the Iron fey steal the scepter? How did they even get inside?" The second question in particular is disturbing to me. This is my home – for the moment at least – it's not particularly reassuring that these iron fey got in and out undetected.

"I don't know. Maybe they want its power? Or maybe they took it to start a war between the courts. They accomplished that much at least."

"I have to tell the Queen." And won't that be a fun conversation to have after what I've done.

"No!" She says, standing in front of me. Honestly, what did I just say about getting involved in fey politics? "Ash she won't believe you. I tried to tell her and she turned me into an icicle. She's convinced it's Oberon's doing." She has a point.

"She'll listen to me."

"Are you sure? With everything you've done? Will she listen to you after you saved me and killed Rowan?" Annoyingly, she makes a good point. After what I've done today, I'll be lucky to even get an audience with Mab – it's more likely I'll be killed on sight. "We have to go after them," she whispers. "We have to find Tertius and get the scepter back. It's the only way to stop the war. Mab will have to believe us then, right?" Not necessarily. If I do this, then I'll only be adding yet another treasonous act to my already long list. But, will Mab listen if I just tell her our theory without any proof. Before I can answer, a scratching on the door, making the both of us jump. I share a look with Meghan before drawing me sword and motioning her behind me. I open the door slightly; just enough to let a dark cat streak through. I sheath my blade in relief. I know that cat.

"Tiaothin," I mutter, annoyed at how on edge I am in my own home. Tiaothin slips back into her human form as I ask "what's happening out there? What's going on?" She grins at me and it turns my stomach inside out. This isn't good.

"The soldiers are everywhere," she announces grandly. "They've sealed all doors into and out of the palace, and everyone is looking for you and the half-breed." She looks over at Meghan and chuckles, though I'm not going to delve into what that means right now. "Mab is pissed. You should go now, if you're going. The elite guard are on their way right now." Damn it. The elite guard won't leave a single stone unturned until they've found us. Meghan looks over at me, desperation clearly written on her face. She needs to leave. And now, so do I. I shake my head in disbelief. I can't actually believe I'm doing this. Sneaking out of my own home like a common thief.

"This way," I snap at Meghan, stalking back over to the closet and opening the door. "Inside, now." My tone leaves no room for argument. Meghan does as she's told without argument, walking into the closet, pausing only to look back at me. In turn, I pause in the doorway, looking back at Tiaothin. "Lie low after this, Tiaothin," I warn the phouka. She doesn't need any more problems because of me. Not after all she's done to help me. "Stay out of Mab's way for a while, got it?" The phouka grins at me, as if the notion of lying low is a foreign concept to her. Knowing Tiaothin, it probably is.

"And what fun would that be?" I make to argue with her some more but she sticks her tongue out before jerking her head towards the door. "They're almost here. Go, I'll lead them away. No one does a wild-goose chase better than a phouka." Before I can say anything to stop her, she runs to the door, yanks it open and leans into the hall. "The prince!" she screeches. "The prince and the half-breed! I saw them! Follow me!" She darts out of the door and down the corridor, leaving Meghan and I to duck into the closet to hide from the thundering footsteps approaching our hiding spot. I pull a hand through my hair in frustration.

"Idiot phouka," I mutter to myself.

"Will she be alright?" Meghan asks. Instead of smiling like I want to at Meghan's concern, I snort at the idea of Tiaothin not being okay.

"Tiaothin can handle herself better than anyone I know. That's why I asked her to keep an eye on you."

"I didn't need babysitting," she retorts. Yeah, right. She needs babysitting more than she knows – especially here where one wrong move can turn you into a breathing statue. I ignore her, instead placing a hand on the wall and muttering the words that I haven't used in a very long time but are familiar to me none the less. A sliver of light appears, allowing me to pull open another door, letting pale light spill into the room behind me and illuminating a staircase made entirely of ice. I haven't had to use this exit since Ariella was alive.

"Come on," I say, holding out a hand for Meghan. The last thing I need is her slipping on a step and cracking her head open. "This will take us out of the palace, but we have to hurry before it disappears." The beauty of this exit is the limited window it opens for before it closes up again. Unfortunately, the light of the door has attracted some unwanted attention and, as a shout of discovery echoes behind us, Meghan and I dart through the door and down the stairs, away from my home. Away from, what I once thought was a place of relative safety for me. I glance over at Meghan, my eyes able to make her out even in the darkness. Is she really worth it? Looking at her now, with her hand grasped tightly around mine – I think the answer is yes. She is.

* * *

 **Here it is - part 2 of Winter has Come - there's only this chapter tonight but it's a long one. 9 pages long! I hope this is a satisfying conclusion to this prompt and I should have another up soon. Please, please review and let me know what you think of this chapter and the series in general, they really do mean the world to me and they motivate me to write like you wouldn't believe. See you soon guys xxx**


	10. The 'Last' Kiss

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the dialogue - they belong to the wonderful Julie Kagawa. I'm just playing with them a little bit ;)**

* * *

 **The 'Last' Kiss**

I pull Meghan through the Market, glaring at the more persistent vendors who won't take no for an answer. My mind is still reeling from the news that Rowan isn't dead. On the one hand, I'm not a kinslayer – although that doesn't change the fact that I fought Rowan with the intent to harm or kill him. On the other hand, Rowan's alive. And he won't be best pleased that I've managed to best him in a fight and escape with Meghan. I'm not entirely convinced it's a better situation to be in than if he were dead.

We push through the crowds until we reach the dark tavern on the edge of the docks. As we approach, a drunken goblin staggers out of the doors, still clutching the tankard of alcohol before vomiting up the contents of it's stomach and promptly falling face first into the mess he's made. Lovely. The Unseelie, once again selling themselves to visitors from the other court. I step over the drunken goblin, rolling my eyes at the scene before ducking through the still swinging doors of the tavern. I pay no attention to the rest of the fey in the tavern, moving swiftly towards the bar where the dwarf that works the bar is standing, cleaning glasses. Although if you can call spitting into a glass cleaning it, depends on your viewpoint.

"You shouldn't be here Prince," he says quietly. "Rowan's got half the city lookin' for you. Sooner or later, the Thornguards will show up an' tear the place apart if they think we're hidin' you." Of course, all bar owners are concerned about the possibility of the Thornguards showing up – when Rowan's in a foul mood, he often takes it out on the unsuspecting Unseelie below the castle. Random searches are not uncommon in the bars and shops in Tir Na Nog and, normally, I'd have some sympathy for them. I have to put up with Rowan because, like it or not, he is my brother. No one else should have to deal with him too. Unfortunately, today, I couldn't really care less about what happens once I get Meghan out of here.

"I'm looking for Sweetfinger," I say, equally as quietly. "I need to get out of Tir Na Nog tonight. Do you know where he is?" I watch Meghan pull herself up onto a bar stool beside me out of the corner of my eye. The dwarf behind the counter watches her too, throwing a scowl her way.

"If I didn't know you better Prince, I would accuse you of goin' soft. Word is you're a traitor to the Winter Court, but I don't care about that." He puts the tankard down on the counter and leans forward conspiringly and I can feel myself shutting my emotions down; the cold, hard mask springing into place without me even realising. "Just answer me this, is she worth it?"

"Would this be considered payment for finding Sweetfinger?" I ask coldly. It doesn't matter that I came to this bar often after Ariella died, drowning my sorrows in tankard after tankard in a desperate attempt to bury the pain the loss of the beautiful girl in my life. It doesn't matter, that it was usually this very dwarf that picked me up off the counter and ensured I made it back to the castle in vaguely one piece. In Tir Na Nog, bargains and deals and treachery are all anyone cares about – even well meaning bar tenders like the dwarf in front me (one who's name I'm almost certain is Arsot, though it's been a while since I've been here and the last time…well, I don't really remember much about that night). 'Arsot' snorts at my question, and I have to hold myself back from rolling my eyes at his flippant nature.

"Yeah. Sure, whatever. But, I want a serious answer, Prince." I pause for a moment, thinking about how I feel about Meghan – how I've cared for her since the first time we met at Elysium, and how that care soon turned into the one thing I swore I would never allow myself to feel again. Love. Is she worth turning my back on my court, my family, my home?

"Yes," I murmur quietly. "She's worth it."

"You know Mab will tear you apart for this."

"I know." It's a hard thing to forget, when you're running for your life from the woman. Arsot shakes his head at me, his expression turning to one of pity.

"You an' your lady problems. Worse than the satyrs, I tell you. At least they're smart enough not to get attached." Anger boils in the pit of my stomach at his words. Despite everything that's happened, Meghan is not to blame for it, not really. And I will not feel guilty for falling in love again – for letting Meghan remind me what it is to be loved. And I wouldn't change falling for her – never, in a thousand years will I regret that.

"Can you find me Sweetfinger or not?" I ask, my voice like ice even to my own ears.

"Yeah, I know where he is," Arsot says, scratching his nose. "I'll send someone out to fetch him. You and the Summer Whelp can stay upstairs until he shows up." _He's helping us escape._ I chant in my head as I push myself away from the counter and turn to Meghan. _He doesn't mean anything by it – you've heard Mab call Meghan that and worse in recent days._ Even so, I can't quite get rid of the icy tone in my voice.

"Lets go," I tell Meghan, who obediently hops off the bar stool.

"Who's Sweetfinger?" She asks as she follows me across the room, towards the stairs. I keep my gaze firmly on the staircase; knowing without looking, that all the patrons of the bar are shying away from our approach. Good. The last thing we need is to be stopped by a drunk goblin who's mouth has run away from him.

"He's a smuggler," I reply, pausing at the bottom of the stairs and motioning for Meghan to go up first. Not that I don't trust the Unseelie in this bar, but… "A goblin, to be specific." I continue, as I follow behind her. "Instead of smuggling goods, he smuggles living creatures. He might be the only one who can get us out of the city. If we can pay his price." That was my next concern. Sweetfinger is well known for his outrageous prices in exchange for the simplest of deals. In our haste to leave the castle, I didn't exactly have much time to grab anything valuable to trade with. Once we reach the top of the stairs, I gently push past Meghan to lead her to one of the rooms at the end of the corridor. I push the door open to reveal a simple room, with a cage containing a group of fireflies to light the otherwise dark room, and two small beds. Meghan walks in and I follow, shutting the door behind us and leaning against it. I eye one of the beds for a moment, wanting nothing more than to collapse onto the bed, pull Meghan close, and sleep away this nightmare of a day. Unfortunately, that isn't going to happen.

"Are you alright?" Meghan whispers after a moment and the memory of the last words I'd said to her echo back through my mind, making my heart ache. I want nothing more than to take them back but I can't. This is how it has to be. I know that. So, instead of pulling her into my arms like I desperately want to, I just nod and rake my fingers through my hair in frustration instead.

"Get some sleep," I say quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace we seem to have stumbled on in this room. "I don't know if we'll get another chance to stop after this. You should rest while you can."

"I'm not tired," she protests and I don't rebuke the statement, though we both know it's a lie. Instead, we stand there in silence, staring at each other. Each of us wanting to say something to break the tension between us, but neither of us really knowing what to say. A couple of times, I make to say something, to apologise for my harsh words earlier, to explain or beg for forgiveness – I'm not sure which – but each time I start to speak, I lose my nerve and stay silent instead. When, I finally master the courage to say something, we end up talking over each other.

"Ash-"

"Meghan, I-"

Before either of us can get any further, someone pounds on the door, making both of us jump. I curse myself silently for such a blatant show of fear before taking a deep breath to calm myself and to cut myself some slack. When what remains of your family is out for your head on a platter, I think you can afford to jump at sudden noises. As long as no one outside of the human girl you love sees, you should be relatively safe.

"Prince Ash! Sweetfinger is downstairs, waiting for you."

"Tell him I'm on my way," I call, as I push myself off of the door. "Wait here," I say, turning back to face Meghan. "It should be safe. Lock the door and try to get some rest." With that, I open the door, revealing the goblin on the other side and, without looking back, step out into the corridor and close the door softly behind me. "Let's get this over with," I say to the goblin, who grins at me and hurries down the corridor, leaving me to bring up the rear. I'm taken back down to the bar; to a table shrouded in darkness and smoke in the back corner. I sit down facing Sweetfinger and try to draw as much courage as I can from my drained body. It's strange to think this morning, I still had Sage to mediate the bickering Rowan and I partake in over breakfast. Now, it's all lost to me. It's a sobering thought. I shake my head to clear it and stare at the goblin across from me.

"Can you do it?" I ask him, my voice as sharp as the ice daggers I use to fight with Goodfellow. I don't have time for pleasantries. While I'm down here, Meghan is alone and unprotected.

"I can. Sweetfinger can get you and the girl out of Winter undetected. For a price." Here we go.

"What is it that you want? You should know I don't have much left to give."

"Do not worry Prince. You carry one thing which will be payment enough." I raise an eyebrow at the goblin. I'm fairly sure I don't have anything of much value to a goblin with me. The thought does cross my mind that he wants Meghan – she's certainly beautiful enough to attract the attention of a goblin. Luckily for Sweetfinger, and my sanity, he quickly dispels that notion.

"The ring that you carry in your pocket, Sweetfinger will take that as payment for your travels." My hand automatically goes to my coat pocket, where the ring that Ariella once gave me lives. I remember the day she gave it to me, all those years ago.

* * *

 _We were a few weeks into what the humans deem as fall and I had, once more, ridden to the mansion where Ariella resided with her father, instead of playing the good little son for Mab as she met with high up Lords and Ladies in the run up to Elysium. That's why Sage and Rowan were born first after all. She meets me on the front porch as she always does and I barely pull the horse to a stop before she bounds down the steps to meet me. I jump down chuckling as she wraps her arms around my waist, squeezing tightly._

" _Hello," I say with a smile._

" _Hello," she replies, though her voice is muffled because her face is pressed into my coat. I sigh as I read into her actions and wrap my own arms around her._

" _Was it that bad?" The previous evening, her father had hosted a dinner party, one where Ariella is shown off as a prophet in order for her father to gain more social status in Tir Na Nog. Ariella told me about previous dinners yesterday, so I know she was worried about last night._

" _As per usual, I was asked to predict something that would happen to one of the Ladies that attended," she says, letting go of everything but my hand as we walk to the stable to pick up her horse before escaping. "As usual, I couldn't do it. I caught vague glimpses but it was all so cloudy. Needless to say, father wasn't impressed." I stiffen at the implications of those words. Ariella's father is definitely not a kind man and it's a wonder Ariella has turned out the way she has with a father like hers._

" _I'm sorry," I murmur, bringing her to my side. She sighs._

" _It's not your fault," she pulls away to tack up her horse, and I watch her work in silence. She turns to look at me briefly as she works and laughs._

" _What?"_

" _Oh Ash, you do make me laugh. You're so protective of me that if my father saw the look on your face right now, he'd probably be frozen in fear for all eternity." I roll my eyes at her, but relax slightly at the sound of her laugh._

" _He deserves that much and more for how he treats you. Will you please consider coming to live at the castle with me? Mab would have no problem with it – having you there would mean I'd be around more for her to use so it would be a win-win." She laughs again._

" _Somehow, I doubt my father would see it that way."_

" _He wouldn't be able to say no. Not if Mab was ordering you to move in." She leads the horse from it's stable and presses a kiss to my cheek as she passes._

" _Careful, Your Highness, if people hear you talk like that, rumours may spread." She teases._

" _Let them talk," I growl._

" _Tell you what," she says with a small smile, "I'll make you a deal." I raise my eyebrows at her in curiosity. She reaches into her saddle bag and pulls something out. She holds it in her hand, a small, wistful smile on her face. I watch her in fascination for a moment, before she shakes herself out of whatever daydream she's immersed in. She holds her hand out, revealing a small, golden ring with a ruby inset on top. I take it from her, holding it to the light and watching it sparkle. "That ring was my mothers. It's one of the only things I have of hers that father hasn't taken from me. If you promise to let the matter go for the duration of our adventures today; then you can take that with you when you leave tonight. And I will follow to reclaim it." My heart stutters as her words sink in._

" _You mean that?" I ask, hardly daring to believe it. "You would really come to live in the castle?"_

" _I don't want this life Ash. I don't want to be a secret; hidden from everyone until my father deems me fit for public viewing. I want a life with you and yes, living in the castle won't be easy but you'll be there. And that's worth everything." She pauses, a glimmer of mischief sparkling in her eyes. "So, Prince Ash; do we have a deal?" I smile at her, slipping the ring into my coat pocket._

" _I do believe we do."_

* * *

This ring, the ring that I have carried in my coat pocket since that day, the ring that she left me to keep safe. That is what Sweetfinger wants. Of all the things he could ask for, of course he has to ask for that. I remember Ariella's face that day, bright and earnest as she imagined what her life would be like once she was out from under her father's thumb. And then, I think of the girl upstairs, who sacrificed everything in order to uphold her end of the bargain. A girl who protected me when anyone else would have run and left me to die. Would Ariella understand? I think she would. I hope she would. But, there is something I can do to ensure I honour her beloved ring.

"You get the ring, if we get out of Tir Na Nog safely, without anyone noticing. Until then, these will have to do." I pull out a handful of coins from my pocket and put them on the table, hoping my gamble pays off. Sweetfinger eyes the coins greedily and I can almost hear the cogs in my tiny little brain working.

"Deal," he says after a pause, his bony fingers grabbing at the coins easily. With his attention for the moment diverted, I take the opportunity to let out the breath I'd been holding. At least this way, I have a contingency plan if Sweetfinger doesn't uphold his end of the bargain, and it will give him some incentive to hold up the deal. I stand from the chair, as Sweetfinger counts the coins in front of him.

"I'll go and get Meghan. We'll meet you here shortly." Sweetfinger just nods in agreement, too busy with his winnings to bother about me now. I roll my eyes before heading back upstairs to where I left Meghan. I push open the door and step into the dimly lit room, my gaze falling on the sleeping girl. I smirk at her. _I thought you said you weren't tired Your Highness_ I think wryly. I take a step forward to wake her, but pause, watching her sleep. She's exhausted and it's only going to get worse in the coming days. I sigh as I come to my decision and place the dark cloth next to the cage over the top, blocking the light. I kneel next to the bed, stroking stray strands of white blonde hair out of her face gently.

"I hope you know, that if I could, I would stay with you Meghan Chase," I murmur softly. I know she can't hear me, but the words need to be said. Even if I am too much of a coward to say them to her face when she's awake. "I meant what I said, in the Iron Kingdom, you've made me feel alive again. You've made my life worth living, and, I wish things were different as much as you do. Maybe even more. But they aren't, and you don't belong here Meghan. Not in this world of treachery and deceit; you're too pure for that. If I can stop you from being tainted like every other god forsaken creature in this world, then I will know that I've saved you in some small way. Even if you hate me for what I have to do, at least you can go away and lead a normal life, with your family. Like you deserve." I sigh again as I watch her shift in her sleep, taking in the glamour coming off of her as she dreams. Downstairs, a glass breaks and, as much as I might like to let her sleep a while longer, we have to go. It might take the Thornguards a while to come and check the Tavern, but they will eventually. I curse myself for losing sight of that. Right now, it's more important to get out of here quickly – she can rest once we're out of here. I shake my head to clear the last of the drowsiness that's begun to edge its way back into my body. I pull myself up to sit on the edge of the bed and gently shake Meghan awake, biting back a smile as she groans and slowly opens her eyes.  
"Meghan, wake up. It's time," I say gently. As soon as her eyes are fully open, I start to stand up. I need the physical separation between us right now, knowing that all too soon, she's going to be gone and I'm never going to see her again. Unfortunately, Meghan doesn't seem to have the same thought process as I do, and she leans forward sleepily; wrapping her arms around my waist to prevent me from standing. My heart thumps at the contact.

"No. Stay." She groans and I shiver at her words. I wonder if she knows how badly I want to do exactly what she's asking of me.

"You're not making this any easier," I whisper.

"Don't care." _Of course you don't_. She tightens her hold on me and I give in to her, half turning in her arms to play with her hair again. Without realising, I seem to dig up some of the courage I thought I'd lost earlier. Enough at least to say;

"Why am I so drawn to you? Why is it so hard to let go? I thought…at first…it was Ariella, that you remind me of so much. But it's not." I pause for a moment, comparing the two girls in my head. "You're far more stubborn than she ever was."

"That's like the pot calling the kettle back," she whispers, making me smile. She does have a point. I sober once more and rest my forehead against hers.

"What do you want of me Meghan?" I plead with her.

"Just you. I just want you." I knew she was going to say that and I close my eyes in defeat.

"I can't do that." She knows I can't do that.

"Why not?" She demands, a hint of the spark that initially drew me to her starting to show through her sleepy demeanour. "Who cares what the courts say? We could meet in secret. You could come to my world; no one would see us there." There are times where I love her naivety. But I shake my head at her proposition.

"Mab already knows. Do you think she would let us get away with it? You saw how well she reacted in the throne room."

"Please," she whispers in my side. "Don't do this. We can find a way around the courts. Please." She tightens her grip on me. "I love you, Ash."

"Meghan," I say quietly. _I love you too_ is what I want to say. Is what I should say. "You don't…know me at all. You don't know what I've done…the blood on my hands, both faery and mortal." I pause for a moment to collect myself. She needs to know, I'm not good enough for her. No matter what she might like to think. "When Ariella died, everything inside me froze. It was only through hunting—killing—that I could feel anything again. I cared for nothing, not even myself. I threw myself into fights I thought I would lose, if only to feel the pain of a sword blow, the claws tearing me apart." I know she's crying. Even without looking at her, I can hear her trying to stay quiet as I talk but I still know. "But then you came along," I tell her, catching a tear on her cheek. "And suddenly…I don't know. It was like I was seeing things for the first time again. When I saw you with Puck, the day you came to the Nevernever…"

"The day you tried to kill us," she interrupts and I wince. Yeah, I'm never going to forget that moment.

"I thought fate was playing a cruel joke on me. That a girl, who could have been Ariella's shadow, was keeping company with my sworn enemy—it was too much. I wanted to kill you both. But, then I met you at Elysium, and…"

I close my eyes, remembering that night. The first time I got to hold Meghan in my arms. The first time I realised that this girl was Trouble with a capital T. And I liked that about her. "And everything I thought I'd lost forever came trickling back. It was maddening. I thought about killing you several times during Elysium, just to stop what I knew would be my downfall. I didn't want this, to feel anything, especially with a half-human girl who was the daughter of the Summer King." He snorted ruefully, shaking his head. "From the moment you stepped into the Nevernever, you've been my undoing. I should never have agreed to that contract."

"Why?" She asks.

"Because no matter what I feel, I can't fight centuries of rules and traditions, and neither can you." I tell her gently.

"We could try-"

"You don't know the courts. You haven't been in Faery long enough to know what could happen, but I do. I've seen it, centuries of it. Even if we get the scepter back, even if we manage to stop the war, we'll still be on opposite sides. Nothing will change that, no matter how much you wish it wasn't so. No matter how much I wish it was different." We sit in silence for a moment, before I gently pry her hands away from my waist and stand up. "Come on. We should go. Sweetfinger and I made a deal. He'll get us out of the city through the goblin tunnels that run beneath it. We'll need to hurry—Rowan's Thornguards are still scouring the streets for us."

"Ash," she says, pushing herself upright. "Wait. Just one more thing we have before we go." I frown at her, knowing this isn't going to end well for either of us, but I don't have the heart to tell her no.

"What do you want?" I ask warily. She stands in front of me and I can see nerves shining in her eyes.

"Kiss me," she says. I raise an eyebrow in surprise. Of all the things I was expecting to hear, that wasn't it. "Just once more and I promise it will be the last time. I'll be able to forget you after that." I almost laugh at that, because we both know it's not true. Neither of us will ever forget. "Last time I swear. It's the least you can do. I didn't get a proper break up you know." Her tone is light but I can hear the desperation in her words. What she doesn't know is I need this as much as she does. The only problem is, I'm not sure I'm going to be strong enough to leave her if I do as she asks. I glance at the door, debating on just walking out, but even as I think it, I know it's not a possibility. I sigh and step forward, intending on just giving her a chaste kiss; enough to satisfy the both of us but still leave me with some functioning brain cells. Of course, I didn't take into account how badly I want her. From the moment our lips touch, I need more. She digs her fingers into my back and, in return, I pull her close, holding her tightly against me, revealing in the feeling of having Meghan here with me. Her fingers work their way into my hair and she bites down on my lip, making me groan with need. I need to pull away, to stop this, but I can't. I don't want to. Eventually, I manage to pull away from her, though I can't quite convince my fingers to let go of her shoulders.

"Don't ask me this again," I say roughly. _Because if you do, I won't be able to stop._ She doesn't say anything, and I manage to pull myself away from her completely, walking out of the door without looking back. I don't make it far though; simply resting my head against the wall outside of the room. I knew it from the moment I took her hand at Elysium. Meghan Chase is Trouble with a capital T – and I don't want to let her go.

* * *

 **I had a lot of fun writing this scene so I hope you all like it. This is what I've dubbed the 'last' kiss - also known as the moment my heart started to break for Meghan and Ash. It was interesting to see Ash's POV of it so I hope I've done okay. Let me know what you thought about it in a review guys and let me know if there are any more scenes you want to see. See you soon guys xxx**


	11. Leaving is the Hardest Thing

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the dialogue - they belong to the wonderful Julie Kagawa. I'm just playing with them a little bit ;)**

* * *

 **Leaving is the Hardest Thing**

"We have to go after the scepter," Meghan says, turning to Puck and I roll my eyes. Of course she'd take any opportunity to stay here despite the dangers she faces. "Ash can't do it by himself," really? Is that really what she thinks, that I can't do this alone? "We can help-"

"No, you can't," I interrupt her little speech. I can't believe I'm going to tell her this because it's not going to end well. But, if it stops her from following me… "Not this time. You'd be no use to me, Meghan, not with your magic sealed-" the shocked look on both Meghan and Goodfellow's faces makes me stop, my stomach twisting with guilt. Puck gathers himself first and steps forward, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"Sealed? You put a binding on her?"

"I didn't," honestly, does he think that little of me? "Mab did. When she first came to Winter. Mab was afraid her power would be too great, so she sealed her magic to protect the court." Not that I agreed with her – I'd seen first hand how little knowledge Meghan has of her powers. One day, yes, they would be great but only if she practised and honed her skills and, if I get my way, she'll go back to the human world, far away from all of this.

"And you knew!" Meghan says. Here it comes. "You knew about the seal, and you didn't bother to tell me." I force nonchalance and shrug my shoulders, even though guilt is making my stomach churn.

"Mab ordered us not to. Besides, what difference would it make? I can't do anything about it." Meghan turns to face Puck again and that's like a knife to the stomach because I've let her down. In so many ways, I've let her down and hid things from her. I did it to protect her as best I could, but I've still kept important things from her. Goodfellow hasn't, not really. And the look he's giving me right now tells me he knows it – and he's relishing the fact.

"Can you break it?" Meghan asks Puck.

"Sorry Princess. Only Mab or someone of equal power, can remove a binding once it's been placed. That makes your choice Oberon, or Mab herself."

"All the more reason for you to get to Summer," I say, pushing myself off the pillar I've been leaning against, wincing as I pull at my injuries. One look at Meghan's face tells me that I've left a visible…mark on the pillar.

"Where are you going?" Meghan asks, worry clouding her voice and some of the guilt I feel disappears slightly. Maybe she doesn't hate me quite as much as I thought she did, if she's worried that I won't come back. I shouldn't even be thinking like that – she needs to leave and go to Summer at the very least. I sheathe my sword, keeping my eyes on the floor to avoid looking at her. If I look at her right now, what's left of my very fragile willpower will shatter and I'll never be able to leave her.

"There's a spring a few yards behind this tower," I tell her as I make my way towards the door. "Unless either of you object, I'm going to bathe." I really needed to do something about my leg at the very least and the water should help soothe it slightly.

"But you're coming back, right?" _No. Tell her no – say goodbye now and let Goodfellow take over. You have bigger things to be worrying about than the half-human Summer Princess._ I sigh.

"I'm not going anywhere tonight," I'm an idiot. An actual idiot. I gesture towards the back wall. "There's a trunk with blankets and supplies in that corner. Make yourselves comfortable. I think we're all going to be spending the night here." Yipee. I force myself to walk out of the door and I'm glad to see I've still got some level of control left in me as I head towards the spring. I quickly shed my clothes and boots and ease myself into the frigid water, wincing as my open wounds sting as I sink down. I lean my head against the rocks and close my eyes. Being here is hard, much harder than I thought it would be. Being here with Ariella's look-a-like is ten thousand times harder.

Since I've already proved that my self-control is at an all time low, I finally let my thoughts head back to the tavern room. To that last, tantalising kiss that will haunt me for the rest of my days. When Ariella died, I swore that I would never love again, because the consequences of having that love, even for a brief time, is too painful. And then Meghan arrived. And I let her in because it was too difficult to refuse her. And now, not only am I paying the price but Meghan is too. She didn't know any better than to fall in love with me – humans are well known for their intense emotions. But I know better and now I have to watch Meghan suffer the consequences of my actions. And she doesn't deserve that. Neither of my loves deserved what happened to them.

I open my eyes and look out over the dark, snow covered landscape. My home, the place that I know better than anything in this world, is now closed off to me. Because I fell in love. I think back on my answer to the bar tender's question earlier. _Is she worth it?_ Despite everything that's happened today, I wouldn't change anything. Not a single thing – and that thought scares me slightly. I pull myself from the water and quickly dress again, knowing the water will have helped my injuries from the battle earlier. I steel myself at the door of the cottage, preparing myself for Meghan's pleas for me to stay, or to at least take me with her. What I actually walk in on, is something that I could have never imagined. As I cross the threshold, my eyes immediately find Meghan…and Puck. Their foreheads pressed together as Puck leans even closer to Meghan, their lips millimetres from touching. I don't know if Meghan has heard me come in, but she pulls away and, while that should improve the hollow feeling in my stomach, the look of shock on her face tells me everything. I close myself off to them both in a last ditch attempt to hide how much seeing them like that hurt, but I know that Meghan caught it. Puck turns, following Meghan's gaze.

"Oh hey prince," he says casually. "I forgot you were here. Sorry 'bout that." Yeah right. He didn't forget I was here and we both know it. In the same way we both know how Meghan and I feel about each other. I can feel Meghan's gaze but I ignore her. I can't talk to her, not after what's just happened. I might be…cold sometimes, but that doesn't mean things like that don't hurt me at all. Speaking of being cold, my next words to Goodfellow are like ice shards.

"I want you gone by morning. I want you out of my territory, you and the princess both. According to the law, I could kill you where you stand for trespassing. If I see either of you in Tir Na Nog again, I won't be so lenient."

"Jeez, don't get your panties in a twist, Your Highness. We'll be happy to leave, right princess?"

"Yeah," Meghan whispers and my heart twists at how forlorn she sounds. I know, deep down, that she loves me and what almost happened with Puck was probably – no definitely – not her doing. Either way, it's time for me to make _my_ intentions clear. They need to go. Now. Before I do something really idiotic like go back on my word and take her with me. I catch her eye briefly and I have to fight to keep the cold, stoic mask on my face. I look away, concentrating on the dead iron fey that are in piles around the room. Working quickly, I move them outside, slipping into the mindset that I usually have when I'm in the palace – a state of not feeling pain or hurt – just focusing on the task at hand. When that was done, we all sat in silence for a while before I couldn't take being in the same room as Meghan and not even looking at her anymore. I stand abruptly, telling them that I was going to scout around and made my exit. I walk quickly towards the forest and lean against a tree, letting the cool night breeze ruffle my hair.

I know that I could very well walk back in there to find Puck and Meghan going for it but, somehow, I know that I won't. Meghan seemed genuinely shocked at what happened, like she wasn't expecting it and, you can say what you want about Goodfellow, he knows when to push and when to not. He's pushed enough for one night, he's not quite stupid enough to do it again. I don't know how long I stayed out there but, when I eventually gathered myself together and went back in, both Meghan and Puck were asleep. At least, Puck was going from the snores emanating from his general direction. Meghan was just a lump underneath the blankets, so it was hard to tell whether she was awake or not. A part of me hoped she was asleep, so that I could just leave without having to say goodbye to her. I'm that much of a coward. I stand in the middle of the room, toying with the idea of going over to Meghan and waking her up and just leaving right now, but I'm distracted by a hazy light coming from behind me. I swallow against the lump in my throat as I slowly turn around to face what's happening behind me. Small glowing lights started to form together, creating the image of Ariella, as she was the last time she was here. I watch her for a moment as she dances over the flowers as if she didn't have a care in the world, before I have to close my eyes to the scene in front of me. I stand there like that, knowing she's in front of me and, finally, I open my eyes again, looking right into her face as she reaches for me. The happiness and life emanating just from this illusion is heartbreaking.

"Is that…Ariella?" I turn around so fast that I might have pulled a muscle. Dammit, of course Meghan's not asleep. Of course she had to see this – this one moment that I have left, that I can come and watch if I choose to do so. Not that that happens as much anymore, but once upon a time, I was here almost every night if I wasn't drinking myself into a stupor. I can't stop her now – there's no point. I sigh and turn away again, following Ariella's memory as she continues to dance around me.

"No. It isn't. Not in the way you think."

"Her ghost?" I shake my head.

"Not even that. There is no afterlife for us. We have no souls with which to haunt the world. This is…just a memory. She was always happy here. The flowers…remember." Meghan is silent for a moment and I'm glad. I'm glad she understands that I can't…won't talk about this anymore than I have to. We stand there in silence, watching my old love dance and smile in a way that she will never do again. Eventually, I manage to tell her what she needs to know.

"I'm leaving," I tell her quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace that has descended upon us. I turn to face her, stunned to find tears already streaking down her face though I don't know why. She didn't know Ariella and she knows I'm leaving her with Goodfellow, so why would she be crying so much? A few tears I expected but this? I force myself to continue. "Have Goodfellow take you home. It isn't safe here any longer."

"I won't see you again, will I?" She whispers and I shake my head once.

"I wasn't fair to you," I tell her. "I knew the laws, better than anyone. I knew it would end…like this. I ignored my better judgment, and for that, I'm sorry. But, after tonight, we'll be enemies. Your father and my queen will be at war. If I see you again, I might kill you." My eyes narrow, and my voice turns cold. She needs to understand this. She needs to know what will happen if she comes looking for me. "For real this time, Meghan." I turn so that out of one eye I can see Ariella and out of the other I can see Meghan. Two beautiful girls that had the misfortune to fall in love with me. I couldn't save one – but I can save the other. "Go home princess," I murmur. "Go home, and forget. You don't belong here." _You don't belong with me_ I add in my head. This time, I do walk out of the door and I don't look back, despite my heart clenching as the sound of Meghan quietly sobbing floats out of the otherwise quiet cottage. Still, I don't look back and I don't stop. Leaving her behind will always be the hardest thing I'll ever have to do, but, if it saves her from sharing Ariella's fate, I will suffer this. At least this way, she will get to live her life and, I can watch from the side lines. It's not what I want, but at least she'll be _alive._ And right now, that's all that matters to me.

* * *

 **I'm not dead! Shocker, I know! I hope you like this one - it's a little short but it's been a while since I've done one of these so I'm easing myself back into it. Let me know what you think guys xxx**


	12. Regret Tastes a lot like Metal

**Regret tastes a lot like metal**

Of all the stupid things I've done in my life, this probably has to be up there in at least the top five if not the top three. And once upon a time, I was best friends with Robin Goodfellow so I'll leave you to imagine what kind of stupid, idiotic things he got me involved with. I struggle against the chains tying me to the chair, ignoring the burning the movement causes. I don't know how long I've been here, alone in this…room. Long enough for the iron to have weakened me considerably. Deep down, I know that, even if I did, by some miracle, escape; I wouldn't be able to fight my way out. Not like this.

"Now, now little Prince. If you keep struggling like that, I'll begin to think you don't want to be here," a high-pitched voice says from behind me. Virus. The last time I'd seen her was when Goodfellow had got himself shot – I never imagined she'd be stupid enough to turn up again now that her King is dead. Apparently I was wrong. She walks towards me, her high heeled shoes clapping echoing around the empty room. She lays a hand on my shoulder and I have to fight everything within me to not flinch away from the contact. I stare her down – at this point, silence is my best weapon. Living in the Unseelie Court does have his upsides – who knew?

"What I would like to know," she says, brushing a hand over the cables that make up her hair absently as she talks. "Is how you found out where we were. Your little human girl – what was her name again? Maisie? Maya?"

"Meghan," I whisper in horror, my stomach contracting at the thought of Meghan coming here. She wouldn't. Goodfellow wouldn't let her. But despite me reasoning, I know that he would. Meghan could convince him if she thought what she was doing was right and Goodfellow's so wrapped up in her he'd do anything she asked of him. Even if it meant putting her life in danger for something that isn't her concern anymore.

"Meghan, that's it!" Virus grins, her blue lips stretching thin and her eyes glinting maliciously behind her yellow glasses. "How is the dear girl? Oh, that's right. You don't know, do you? You don't know how she is because you left her." Yes, I did. And I've regretted it every second from the moment the door closed on her sobs that night.

"Now her, I know all about. I know that her and her little band of followers have found the code for the elevator and I know it's only a matter of time before they turn up here. She's a smart girl after all, it won't take her long to work out how to get up here. And when she does, I'll be ready to greet her. And so will you." My heart freezes, which, up until now I would have thought that to be an impossible feat. Guess I've been proved wrong.

"Why?" I manage to force out. "Why target Meghan? She's just a half-human – no one to waste your time over." A blatant lie – not many half-humans could go through what Meghan has and survive. Unfortunately, Virus knows this.

"How many half-humans, even those born of royal blood, do you know who could have defeated Machina?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at me. "I think she _is_ very much worth my time. And I think you know that too, don't you?" I stay silent, watching her, sizing her up. She stares back at me, her face impassive. Behind her, the door swings open and a human in a dark business suit and a blank expression on his face, walks up to Virus, muttering something in her ear. She grins and I know in my heart what he's telling her. Meghan is either here or on her way. And there's nothing I can do to help her now. The man pulls away and Virus waves him off. She waits until he leaves the room once more, before snapping her fingers at one of her other cronies, who reaches into his pocket and pulls something small out and hands it to her.

"Now my dear," she says, walking around me slowly, one hand dragging lightly across my shoulders. "I'm sure you've realised what's happening. You're darling girl has been spotted not too far from here which means, you're about to be reunited with her. Isn't that lovely?" I stay silent, although my heart skips a little at the mere thought of seeing Meghan again. I curse myself – now is not the time. "There is a slight catch though little prince," Virus continues. "You see, if you're darling Meghan sees you like this, the first thing she'll do is try to free you. And we can't have that now, can we? There's no fun, no drama in a reunion like that." She stands in front of me once more and lays her hand out flat in front of me, revealing a small, metal…bug? "This little thing, is going to make your meeting so much more interesting." She leans closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Because once this is in place, you will follow my every instruction. If I tell you to slice off your hand, you will do it. If I tell you to place your hand against an iron railing, you will do it. And if I tell you to kill your beloved Meghan – you will do it." Realisation sinks in as I stare at the metal contraption glinting up at me. Cold dread makes my stomach feel a hundred pounds heavier and, as Virus motions to two of her lackeys behind her, I immediately start fighting against the metal holding me down. The lackeys grab a shoulder each, holding me still with more force than I thought they would possess and I can only watch in horror as Virus produces a needle from a pocket in her suit. With the bug pressed between two fingers, she lightly taps the syringe, making the clear liquid in the container shake slightly.

"Now my dear. This," she gestures to the needle, "is a muscle relaxant. It won't last very long on you because it's meant for humans, not fey, but it will last long enough to get this," she shakes the bug in my direction, "inside your brain." The pressure on my shoulders clamp down even more so I'm stuck in this chair, able only to watch as Virus approaches. I eye my coat where it's been thrown to the corner of the room with regret. Not that wearing it would do much good but it's certainly thicker than the shirt I'm wearing now. Removing the coat would have bought me some time to escape. As it is, Virus hands the bug to the lackey holding down my left shoulder before unbuttoning my sleeve and rolling the thin material up. I immediately tense as the needle gets closer and closer to my skin.  
"This will be much less painful if you relax, Virus says. I ignore her. If tensing my arm makes her life even slightly harder, then I will gladly take the pain. She waits for a moment before shrugging and plunging the needle into my arm and dumping its contents into my bloodstream. Virus steps back, crossing her arms and watching me expectantly. It doesn't take long for the relaxant to take effect, my still tense arm, slowly relaxing and my eyes start to grow heavy. My vision starts to blur so all I see is a green blur walking towards me and holding my head up as it starts to loll forward. A glass is placed to my lips and is tilted back, forcing water down my dry throat. I feel the pain as the bug down my throat but I can't do anything to stop it. Virus releases her hold on my head and, without the support it drops forward and I let my eyes close. A familiar burning sensation starts to radiate out from the back of my head and down my back, but I'm too tired to even care about that. I take a deep breath and let myself drift.

I don't sleep for long. As the relaxant wears off, the burning pain becomes more and more intense, slicing through the comfortable darkness and bringing me around once more. When I open my eyes it's to find the metal chains that had been binding me have been removed, and my coat has been placed over the arm of my chair. I cautiously stand, gripping the chair for support as my legs shake a little. I pull my coat on and sheathe my sword that was also left leaning against my chair as I take in my surroundings. Virus and her goons are gone, but they can't be far away. Not with Meghan on her way.

Meghan.

Virus' words from earlier ring in my ears. _And if I tell you to kill your beloved Meghan – you will do it._ I'm going to kill Meghan. I start towards the door, every fibre of my being telling me to get as far away from here as possible, before Meghan arrives and Virus can put her plan into action. I don't even get half way across the room before a splitting pain shoots across the back of my head, making me drop to my knees in agony. I'm not sure whether I black out again – I suppose I must, because when I open my eyes, I'm lying on the cold floor. As if my body is on autopilot, I stand and stride towards the door, pulling it open and stepping through into a meeting room. I stand behind a black leather office chair, staring impassively at the room's occupants. The Thronguards in their black, spikey uniform with their swords drawn. The iron horse that captured me back in the Iron Kingdom. Goodfellow's red hair, his green eyes staring at me in disbelief. And her. Meghan Chase. The summer princess who was foolish enough to give me her heart. The girl who will now die by my hand.

"I'm sure you four know each other," Virus says, gesturing to me. "My greatest creation so far, I think. It took six Thornguards and nearly two dozen drones to bring him down, but it was so worth it. Ironic, isn't it? He nearly got away with the scepter the first time, and now he'll do anything to keep it here. Ash," she says as I step away from the chair and fully into the light. "Say hello to our guests."

Meghan stares at me, horror and unshed tears shining in her eyes as she realises what is about to happen. I stare back at her impassively, though a small voice in the back of my head is screaming at me to fight back – to not follow Virus' orders. I squash the voice as if it were a bug.

"AN ILLUSION," Ironhorse snorts, breaking the silence in the room. "A SIMPLE GLAMOUR, NOTHING MORE. I HAVE SEEN WHAT HAPPENS TO THE OLDBLOODS YOU IMPLANT WITH YOUR FOUL BUGS. THEY GO MAD, AND THEN, THEY DIE. THIS IS NOT THE WINTER PRINCE, ANY MORE THAN THESE GUARDS."

"You think?" Virus says smugly. "Well, if you're so sure, old man, you're welcome to try and stop him. It should be easy to defeat one simple guard, although I think you'll find the task harder than you ever expected." She turns to face Meghan. "The princess knows, don't you, my dear." Everyone stares at Meghan, waiting her answer.

"It's not an illusion," she whispers. "It really is him." Again, the voice in the back of my mind rears it's ugly head again, screaming Meghan's name, telling her to run, now while she still can. Maybe the Ironhorse was right – maybe I am going mad. The only thing that is going to happen to the princess in front of me is that she is going to die. She must. Her eyes don't leave my face as she steps forward and my hand tightens on the hilt of my sword at the movement. Is she crazy? Does she not understand she's moments from dying?

 _Knowing Meghan, probably not,_ the irritating voice (that sounds a lot like me) snorts.

"Ash. It's me. Are you hurt? Say something," she whispers.

 _Well if you ignore the fact I'm being controlled by an iron bug,_ the voice says drily, _and I'm about to watch myself kill you, then no Meghan, I'm not hurt._

"All of you will die," I say, my voice cold and hard and quiet. Meghan freezes and the voice in the back of my head curses rather loudly as Virus giggles.

"It's no use," she tells a shocked Meghan. "He hears you, he even recognises you, but he remembers nothing of his old life. He's been completely reprogrammed, thanks to my bug. And now, he listens only to me."

 _The hell I don't remember my life! You think I don't remember Meghan? You think she's that insignificant that all it would take for me to forget is a stupid metal bug?_

Will you shut up? I growl…at myself. The back of my head pounds furiously, as if to reprimand me for indulging in my madness. Meghan watches me, steadily peeling back the cold, indifferent front that I'm portraying and looking beyond that. Delving into the pain I'm holding back.

"It's killing him."

"Well, only a little," Virus say nonchalantly.

"Stop it," Meghan hisses at her. "Please," she begs as she steps forward, her jaw set firm. "Let him go. Let me take his place. I'll sign a contract, make a bargain, anything, if that's what you want. But take the bug out of his head and let him go."

"Meghan!" Puck snaps, staring at the blonde haired girl in horror.

 _Oh Meghan._ The voice breathes quietly. _Let me go. I'm not worth sacrificing yourself over. Go, be happy._

Virus chuckles as she stands from her chair. "Such devotion. I'm terribly moved. Come here, Ash." I immediately move to her side, standing tall and silent as she rests a hand on my chest. Although the voice in my head doesn't appreciate the gesture.

 _You're really going to let her do this, aren't you?_ He demands. _Has Mab not taught you anything? You fight against your enemies – you don't let them walk all over you._ I ignore him and instead, focus on Virus' words. When he realises what I'm doing he sighs and does the same.

"I've finally discovered a way to implant my bugs in the fey system without killing them outright, or driving them mad within the first few hours. Instead of rewriting his brain, I had it take over his cervical nervous system, here." Her fingers drop to the base of my skull, caressing it. "You're welcome to try to carve it out, I suppose, but I'm afraid that will be quite fatal for him. Only I can order my bugs to willingly release their hosts. As for your offer…you have only one thing I want, and I will take that from you momentarily. No, I find that I prefer my bodyguard as he is, for however long he has left."

"Ash!" Meghan cries, holding out her hand to me. "Jump, now! Come on, you can fight it. Please, don't do this. Don't make us fight you…" Her voice drops to a whisper and, when she doesn't get a response, a sob tears free from her throat.

 _Meghan. Meghan, please don't cry. I need you to be strong, I need you to fight like you did against Machina._ There's a pause. _Goddammit Goodfellow – help her! If you do one thing in your life, get her out of here!_ The voice yells.

"Well," Virus says, drawing my attention back to her. "This has grown tiresome. I think it's time I took what I want from you, my dear. Ash," she lays a hand on my shoulder. "Kill them all."

 _Don't you dare!_

I draw my sword and bring it down on the table in the blink of an eye. Puck lunges in front of Meghan, catching the blade of my sword with the blade of his dagger just before it could hit it's mark; and the weapons crash together with a flurry of sparks. Meghan stumbles backwards a few steps as Puck reaches behind him to grab her wrist.

"Retreat!" He yells, pulling Meghan away as the Thronguards launch into battle with a yell and I jump onto the table in order to keep my sights fixed on Meghan. "Ironhorse fall back! There are too many of them!"

 _At last Goodfellow – you took your sweet time._

The voice's words lead me to believe that Ironhorse will do as instructed. He doesn't. Ironhorse, rears back in his true form with a bellow, letting loose a blast of flame and kicking out with his hooves, making the Thornguards fall back in alarm in order to save their own skins. Ironhorse takes the opportunity to charge forward, knocking fey out of the way and clearing a path to the door. I hurry to follow the group, catching them just as Puck shoves Meghan out after Ironhorse. I bring my sword up to finish Goodfellow once and for all, but he quickly turns; blocking my sword as I bring it down.

"Ash, stop this!" Meghan cries from behind Puck. Behind me, I can hear the boots of the Thornguards closing in once more; making Puck curse. He throws something black and fuzzy into the growing crowd. It doesn't take me long to realise it's a black grizzly bear and…well, surviving a grizzly bear attack takes a higher priority than chasing after Robin Goodfellow.

 _When will we learn that Goodfellow will always fall back on his pocket full of tricks?_ The voice sighs. I brush him away as I drive my blade in the back of the bear, rolling my eyes as it bursts into a shower of autumn leaves. I pause as I analyse the gesture. _Did you just…_ I ask the voice.

 _Maybe I did_ he replies smugly. _You CAN fight it you spineless coward. So why aren't you?_ I push the voice away as I leave the Thornguards behind, hurrying after the group. They hadn't got far. Meghan turned to look behind her, a few strands of blonde hair falling over her shoulder and into her face as she watches me stalk towards them, the light from the blade of my sword announcing my presence. She turns back around, but not before I see the pain in her eyes.

 _Do you see what you're doing to her – again? You're not just hurting her – you're killing her. Terrorising her. She's never going to forgive us…me. Not for this._

The dinging of the elevator tears us both away from our…conversation, as a group of Thornguards emerge.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me!" Puck says, pulling the group to a stop. This is my chance to finish this, once and for all. I'm a few steps away from completing my task, a few mere steps when a click echoes down the hall and a door swings open.

"How predictable," comes a familiar voice. "I thought you might need a second way out. Why is it always up to me to think of these things?"

"I would kiss you, cat," Puck says as the group crowds through the door. "If we weren't in such a hurry. Also, the hairballs could be unpleasant." Meghan slams the door shut and I pause for a moment, my head pounding so hard my vision tunnels for a moment. I shake my head, forcing myself to focus. They'll have to go through another office to get to an exit. Luckily for me, there's another door further down the corridor. I brush past the Thornguards who are crowding around the door the group disappeared through, and hurry down the hall; slipping through another door and into a room lined with row upon row of cubicles. I can hear them running down the aisle and I pause for a moment, letting them get closer before I step forward to face them. I see Meghan's eyes widen with shock as she notices me. I expect her to stop and hide behind Goodfellow but she doesn't. Instead, she darts to the side, but the room is so crowded that one of the others behind her ends up tripping her, causing her to slam into a wall. She slides to the ground and I see my chance.

"Meghan!"

"PRINCESS!"

 _NO! Please…please don't…_

I quickly bring my sword up before slashing it down and hitting…her arm? She reaches her other hand over to the wound, staring at her bloody fingers in shocked wonder, before turning those eyes to me. I raise my sword again, preparing myself this time, for the killing blow.

 _Please_ the voice says quietly. _Please don't do this. You've already betrayed any trust she might have had in us. You don't need to kill her. Please. Even if this is all you do, even if you can't fight against all of Virus' programming. Please, please try to fight against_ this.

I pause for a moment, thinking over his words. The torment in his voice as he begs for this girl's life. That moment of hesitation before I bring my sword down is enough time for her companions to come to her aid. Ironhorse lunges between us, shoving me away. I bring my sword around, swiping at Ironhorse's side, almost bringing him to his knees. Puck darts between us, grabbing Meghan and pulling her to her feet, dragging her out of the door, ignoring her cries to let her go. To help **me.**

 _That's my girl_ the voice says softly, as we watch the group hurry out of the door. The door swings shut behind them, and I stagger over to the window, watching them go, but not following. I watch Meghan turn round to watch me, her blue eyes hazy with the pain from her arm. Pain that _I_ caused. And suddenly, I understand why the voice in my head was so scared for her, for what my actions would mean. Because he's right, she will never forgive me now. I've hurt her both mentally and now physically. She will never want to see me again. And watching her leave me, watching her leave a trail of blood behind her from my sword, is enough to make me do something I haven't done in hundreds of years.

I cry.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's a little...different and I hope it's not too confusing. I've always thought a part of Ash did fight back in this scene, hence the italics where he's trying to convince himself not to hurt Meghan. You'll also notice there isn't a lot of decription about the pain Ash must be in because of the bug. In my mind, he's so focused on his mission, that this little detail wouldn't have come into play in this scene. Meghan notices because it's been so long since she's seen him and the difference shocks her. If you want to read the scene where Ash goes to Meghan's house then my story 'The Contract' has that scene in there. Next up, we're going to a dance...**

 **Please review and tell me what you think guys xxx**


	13. The Dance

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the dialogue - they belong to the wonderful Julie Kagawa. I'm just playing with them a little bit ;)**

* * *

 **The Dance**

I stand in the shadows, listening to the conversation going on in the kitchen, a small smile on my face. Of all the things for Meghan to worry about, returning to her old school is top of the list? I listen to her run through as many excuses as she can think of in order to get out of doing this. I think back to our dance at Elysium – the moment where I started to fall for the half human princess, and her obvious nerves that night. She can dance though, extraordinarily well, even for a fey.

"What about Ash?" Well now, that's got my attention. "Should we move him this soon? What if he doesn't want to go?" I roll my eyes and step forward.

"I'll go," I say, my eyes resting on her. The inhabitants of the room turn round to face me and I lean against the door frame to take some of the pressure off of my exhausted muscles. I clench a fist, looking at my hand with disdain before letting it drop. "I can't fight like this. I'd be a liability, and our chances of getting the scepter will diminish. If there's a chance for me to shake this off, I'll take it." There's no way I'm letting Goodfellow have the upper hand now; not when I'm fighting for the girl I love.

"Are you sure?" I smile at her concern.

"I have to be on top of my game if I'm going to kill things for you, right?" I am going to protect you, even if it kills me. I will not be the reason you have to run in fear, not again.

"What you need," the nurse says sternly. "Is to go back to bed. I did not spend the last few hours stitching you back together for you to fall apart because you refused to stay down. Go on, now. Back to bed!" I raise an eyebrow as I allow myself to be herded back into my room. The healer gives me a stern look and I sit on the edge of the bed complacently as she shuts the door firmly behind her. It's only then that I allow myself to chuckle at the absurdity of what's just happened. Me, the third prince of Winter, being ordered to bed like a child. And me actually doing it! I sit there for a moment; just to make sure the healer has truly gone, before heading back over to the door, and easing it open slightly.

"Miss Chase," the healer says. "While I'm fixing up this idiot, I want you to get some sleep. You look exhausted. Use the empty cot in the patient room, and tell Amano that if he bothers you, I'll break his other leg. After I'm done with Robin, I'll come by with something for your throat." My own throat constricts as Meghan walks over to the empty cot as if in a daze. As she passes, I can see the faint purple marks left by my own hand. She lies down and obediently closes her eyes and I swear in the time it takes me to blink once she's fallen fast asleep. I watch her for a while, my eyes tracing over her, marking the various injuries that line her body, from the bruises on her neck, to the dark circles under her eyes. Injuries that, in some way, I've caused. I close the door, and lie down on my own bed. I don't deserve her – I never have. After everything I've done to her, everything I've dragged her headfirst into, she should hate me. She should have let Puck kill me when he had the chance.

But she didn't.

She has never given up, not when all the odds are stacked against her. She would be better off if she went home – or, if she could not leave the Nevernever, then she would at least be better off with Goodfellow, despite how hard it is for me to admit it. Yet, once more, she has proven me wrong. Whether it's through stubbornness or if it's just her heart shining through once more, she saved me. And I owe it to her to follow her example, and to fight for her. For what we have. If that's what she still wants.

The door opening breaks my train of thought, and I don't have to open my eyes to know who it is.

"What is it Goodfellow?"

"You broke her heart prince; do you know that?" I stifle a wince as I open my eyes and sit up to face him.

"I do," I tell him. It seems, neither of us is going to mince words this afternoon.

"If you know that, then you know you have no right to chase after her again. You made your choice Ash. You left her-"

"You don't think I know that?" I snap. "You don't think I know what I let go that night? That it hasn't haunted me, every moment since then? It has, Goodfellow. But do you know why I did it? I did it for her. So she could have a normal life. One that isn't dictated by century old politics. One where she can fall in love with someone and not have to sacrifice anything by doing so." I stop as Puck snorts.

"You knew she wouldn't though," Puck accuses. I open my mouth to argue but nothing comes out. I suppose, deep down, Puck is right. I might not have known Meghan for as long as Goodfellow has, but I do know that when Meghan gets an idea in to her head, she does not let it go. I knew that she would follow me, eventually. Perhaps I was holding her to it. Puck nods slowly, knowing that I can't argue against his words.

"I knew it," he says quietly, as if to himself. "I knew it, but I suppose a part of me wanted to believe you couldn't be that selfish. You say you wanted her to go home; to leave you and lead a normal life, but you know as well as I do that she will never forget. She will most likely never let you go, not completely. Don't you remember that girl all those years ago? The one who died because of you?" I can't help but wince at the memory his words dredge up. That ill-fated bet that I made with Rowan proved to me how fragile humans are. I haven't thought about her in years but now, imagining Meghan in her place, pining away for me, refusing to eat or sleep… "You know it would have happened to her prince. I couldn't stay with her as I did before – I'm in hot water with Oberon anyway, he'd never allow me to stay with her to make sure she was okay. She wouldn't have been able to forget, wouldn't have been able to move on. You were going to kill her Ash, long before any of us ended up at SciCorp. And now, you want her back?"

"I do." I say, my voice firm. I look Puck in the eye, my body tight with determination. "You think I don't regret what I have done to her? Pushing her away, breaking her heart, trying to kill her. Those memories will haunt me for the rest of my life Goodfellow, but don't, for one second think that I did what I have done because I wanted to. I did it because I had to. For the both of us. I know what I've done Goodfellow, but have you ever considered that, because she's a human, because she won't be able to let go – of either of us – she might still choose me? Despite everything that I've done."

"Of course I've thought of that," Puck whispers. "I'm just hoping she'll come to her senses and choose me." We stare at each other for a moment, each considering each other's words. Of all the conversations I expected to have with Goodfellow in my life, posturing over a girl – a half-human girl – didn't make the list. Yet here we are.

"Robin Goodfellow," the healer hisses through the door. "If you are keeping the winter prince from resting so help me there will be no place you can hide." Puck winces theatrically, easing the growing tension in the room, and makes his way over to the door. He pauses when he gets there, one hand resting on the door knob.

"I know the odds aren't in my favour Ash," he says quietly. "Despite the rumours floating around the Nevernever, I'm not an idiot. I see how she looks at you even now; after everything you've done to her. But don't think, for a single second, that I won't fight for her." He doesn't turn to look at; he doesn't have to. His determination and love for Meghan can be heard in his voice.

"I know you will, I'm counting on it. Despite everything I've done to her, I'm going to fight for her too Puck." Now he does turn to face me, his green eyes gleaming with determination and mischief.

"Then I suppose this is as good a moment as any to say let the best man win." I nod solemnly.

"I suppose it is."

"Robin Goodfellow! Don't make me come in there!" The healer hisses again and I bite back the urge to chuckle at Puck's disgruntled expression.

"Women!" He mutters, before throwing the door open to reveal an irritated looking healer. I lean back on my arms to watch the ensuing argument. Being Puck's…acquaintance does at times, give me some amusement.

"Honestly, can you not survive on your own for five minutes?" She says, glaring at Puck.

"Please, you think we're going to be able to wake sleeping beauty out there up in the next few hours?" I follow Puck's enthusiastic pointing to where Meghan is sleeping soundly in the next room; her long pale hair splayed out messily on the pillow. By the look of it, she literally fell into bed. One of her legs is bent at the knee and one arm is dangling off the bed. I can't help the small smile that tugs the corner of my lips at the sight of her.

"Yes, well, the poor girl was exhausted. How she's made it till now is a miracle. When was the last time she slept Robin? The circles under her eyes suggest days. Just what have you been doing?" Wait, days? I can't see her face from here, but I think back to earlier on, in her house. The smudges under her eyes had been there. I'd just been too caught up in my own pain to truly see them. I glare at Puck's back as he shifts uncomfortably under both of our stares.

"Alright so it's been a rough few days. She has slept though; I'm sure of it."

"She might have slept Robin, but she hasn't been sleeping enough." The healer says, rolling her eyes. "Which means that if either of you wake her before it's time for you to leave, there will be hell to pay. If you want her to get through whatever it is you're about to face, then she needs to be rested. As do you prince," she says firmly, her gaze landing on me. I obediently lie down on the bed, watching as the healer drags Puck by the arm out of the room. "If you can't rest yourself, then I have plenty of ointment jars that need cleaning," she says, pushing him towards the kitchen. She turns back to face me. "You. Get some sleep. I'll wake you before it's time to leave." With that she closes the door, leaving me alone in the room once more. My body longs to go to Meghan's side, now that I've had a glimpse of her, but the healer's words ring through my head. She needs to sleep, and while I doubt I'd be able to wake her, if she is as exhausted as the healer says she is, I don't want to risk it. I've already hurt her enough as it is.

Not going to see Meghan though, leaves me to lie here alone and think about Puck's words. I knew he would fight for her. I knew when I left her that night that he would jump in and take over from me without a second thought. I hadn't expected it to hurt so much. The only way to stop myself from thinking about that, was to throw myself into searching for the scepter and trying my best to earn my way back into Mab's good books, as much as I could anyway. And now, the girl I've tried my hardest to push away and forget about, is asleep in the room next door. And it's killing me. I sigh deeply and close my eyes for a moment. Even as I lie here, I can feel my strength returning. I open my eyes and sit up, staring at the door determinedly. Healer be damned, I am not going to be treated like a child. I stand, and resolutely open the door, stepping out just in time to watch Goodfellow being hit with a rolling pin.

"Ow! Good grief woman what was that for?"

"Out Robin. Before I give you more than just a bruised arm!" Puck spots me leaning against the door.

"Hang on a minute. He's walking around – again – and nothing is said, but when I try to help…" The healer scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"Help is an incredibly loose fitting term where you're concerned Robin Goodfellow." Puck looks wounded.

"Why madam-"

"I would suggest hinder is slightly more accurate, although there are plenty of others that would suit Goodfellow even more," I drawl.

"Nobody asked you ice-boy," Puck says, glaring at me. I shrug my shoulders at him and grin. I watch the healer eye me up; contemplating whether it's worth telling me to go back to my room. I raise an eyebrow at her; a silent challenge, to which she throws her arms up in despair.

"I don't know why I bother. I really don't. If you're going to refuse to rest prince, then you can keep Goodfellow entertained." I scowl at that. "No arguments. Either you rest, or you go outside and leave me and the princess in peace. At least one of you does as your told." I follow the healers gaze, back into the next room, where Meghan is still sleeping soundly; completely unaware of what's going on in the kitchen.

"What's wrong ice-boy? Worried you might enjoy spending time with me again?" I roll my eyes and push past him, picking up my sword from where it's been placed against the door, and settling it back into its proper place. With the familiar, comforting weight against my side once more, I feel a little calmer. Like I've reclaimed some control.

"I know one way to pass the time Goodfellow," I say, turning back to face the prankster, whose eyes gleam a little as he catches on to what I'm saying.

"Oh bring it on princeling. Bring on Round Two." His hand has dropped to rest on one of his daggers and we stare at each other for a moment. Which is just long enough for the healer to catch on to what we're planning to do.

"Oh no you don't! Don't you even think about pulling those weapons out here!" She says, stepping in between the two of us.

"Just five minutes." Puck says casually. "Just to burn off a bit of energy. Besides, it will get us out from under your feet for a while."

"Yes, but the payoff for that is one of you ending up injured or worse. And then what would the princess do?" That makes both of us stop for a moment. "That's what I thought," the healer says triumphantly. "Now, I think it's about time we started getting ready for this evening. Goodfellow, go and wake Miss Chase. Prince, I suggest you go back to your room and get ready yourself." I open my mouth to protest, or at least to beg to be the one to wake Meghan. To make sure she was okay. But the healer just hands me a new shirt and waves me away. Say what you want about me; I know when to take a hint. It's probably for the best anyway. I don't know how to be around Meghan right now, after what I've done to her. Helping her go after Virus is one thing, but how can I say I have the right to make sure she's okay when I'm the one who hurt her in the first place. I lean against the closed door, listening to Puck as he wakes her up and ushers her away to get ready. I think back to the last time I saw Meghan in a dress – the first time I truly met her at Elysium. She looked beautiful then and I know she'll look beautiful know. I glance down at my torn clothes and I gather my resolve.

I told Puck I was going to fight for her and that's exactly what I'm going to do. The first step, making myself look like the prince she knows again. Or at least, covering the battle scars. I hear footsteps and voices coming from next door, and I carefully pull the door open a crack, just in time to see a glimpse of Meghan in a blue satin dress as she walks through. It's only a glance, but I know, even from that, I know I was right. She looks beautiful. I take one more look at my torn shirt before removing it, and putting the new one on and buttoning it up. My trousers are fine and at least I look slightly more respectable now. But I know that I won't fit in at a dance looking like this; and I definitely won't compare to Meghan. I think about the colour of her dress and smile to myself, before waving a hand over my clothes; disguising them to look a little more…human. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for being in Meghan's company again before stepping out, right on cue apparently.

"We're still waiting for Ash," Meghan says as I open the door.

"Not anymore," the healer says. Meghan turns to face me, her eyes gazing over me in appreciation. I can't lie, it's a nice thought, that I can make her stop and look at me…like that. In a way that the women at court used to stare at me in lust, Meghan looks at me with…love. It's a nice feeling, knowing that despite all the heart ache I've caused her, there might still be hope. In return, I stare at her, taking her in, in all her human beauty. Fair's fair after all. Then Goodfellow takes hold of her arm, giving me a look that says _hands off, she's mine,_ and breaks the spell the two of us have been under.

"Okay," he says loudly, "the gang's all here. Are we going to this party or not?" I roll my eyes at his childishness and step up beside Meghan and share another look with Goodfellow, who's now smirking at me, knowing full well I'm not really in any position to start a fight with him right here. I keep my face blank, although there's no denying the silent message that I'm now sending him.

Game on.

While Meghan might not have understood the significance of what was going on between me and Goodfellow, the healer certainly noticed the rising tension in the room, and claps her hands loudly to get our attention.

"May I remind you three," she says, ignoring the way Meghan jumped at the sudden noise, "that even though this is a party, we are there for a specific reason. We are not there to spike the punch, seduce the humans, glamour the food, challenge the males to a fight, or do anything pertaining to mischief. Is that understood?" As one, both the nurse and I turn to glare at Puck, who puts on what he thinks is an innocent face (but to those who know him, only warns of trouble to come) and points to himself as if to say _who, me?_ "I will be watching you. Do try to behave yourselves." The healer warns, and I just barely stop myself from saying something Puck-like in response. Instead, I stay silent, and gesture for Meghan to follow the healer.

* * *

Meghan is quiet as we walk down the hallways of her old school. It's interesting to see how her gaze lingers on certain spots longer than others, and how many tiny, almost imperceptible winces she has as she walks by. I've never really given it much thought – about what her old life was like outside of her family. By her reaction to being back here, it doesn't seem like it was all that good. As we reached the doors of the dance, Meghan's nerves became more and more obvious. A couple stumbles through the doors, giving me a glimpse of the glamour filled room beyond.

"Mmm, smell the lust," Puck says as we watch the couple creep away down the side of the building.

"They're not supposed to leave the gym without supervision," the healer growls. "Where are the chaperones? I suppose I'll have to deal with this. You three, behave." With that, she stalks after the unlucky couple. I can't help but feel a little sorry for them. I quickly forget about the unfortunate couple when Meghan glances back to look at me and Goodfellow. Despite her obvious nerves, I am glad that we came. Just standing outside the doors has helped me immensely; the glamour drifting out to us fuelling my strength faster than anything else. Meghan must have noticed because she says,

"How do you feel? Is this helping at all? Are you getting better?" There are so many things that I want to say to her; things I might have said if Goodfellow wasn't here. Instead, I simply settle for,

"Save me a dance." As one, Goodfellow and I push open the doors, revealing the writhing sea of dancing teenagers. This dance is a lot more chaotic than anything held in the Nevernever, and having grown up in the Unseelie court, that's saying a lot. The beat of the music rocks the ground and everywhere you turn, there are couples making out with one another in the dim light. All of that though, makes it a glamour rich environment, and I can't help but sigh as the magic washes over my body in waves, replenishing my strength and healing my battered body. Meghan suddenly turns to face Puck, her eyes wide with panic. She says something to him, but the music is so loud I can't hear what. I follow Puck's gaze to see a middle aged man with thick glasses coming towards us. It doesn't take a genius to work out he must have been one of Meghan's tutors. I take a small step closer, so that I can hear what's being said over the music.

"Excuse me," he says, shouting to be heard. Meghan stiffens. "Is that…Meghan Chase?" She turns to face the man with a wide smile on her face and I bite back the urge to laugh. How she survived so long in the Unseelie Court is amazing when you see her acting skills. "It is you. I thought so." He continues, staring at Meghan who shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. "What are you doing here? Your mother told us you were at a boarding school in Maine."

"I'm…uh…home for Christmas vacation and I wanted to see my old school one more time before I went back." Christmas vacation? My confusion is mirrored on her tutor's face, as he frowns at her.

"But, Christmas vacation was several…" He trails off, a glazed look coming over his face as I wield a simple glamour over him. Considering Meghan has been in a place where time is messed up, Christmas vacation was a pretty good excuse, especially considering she's panicking. The last thing she needs is this guy questioning her now. I'm only too happy to help, especially considering how useless Goodfellow is in this situation. "Christmas vacation," he murmurs as the glamour settles. "Of course. How lovely for you. Will you be coming back next year?"

"Um. I don't know. Maybe? There's still a lot of things to work out."

"I see. Well, it was nice to see you, Meghan. Enjoy the dance."

"See you, Mr. Delany." We both let out a sigh of relief as he leaves.

"That was a close one," Meghan says. "Nice save Puck."

"Huh? What do you mean?" Honestly, Goodfellow isn't the brightest crayon in the colouring box. How he's managed to pull off the tricks and mischief that he has without getting killed is more luck than skill half of the time.

"The charm spell? Come on, you didn't cast that?" I'm not sure whether to be hurt or amused that she thinks Goodfellow and subtlety go hand in hand, even after all this time.

"Not me, Princess. I was about to turn his wig into a ferret, but then he went all sleepy-eyed before I could pull it off. Pity, really. That would've livened up the party. There's so much glamour here, it's a shame not to use it." Now I do roll my eyes. My point has just been proven. A ferret? Really? Meghan glances over at me, one eyebrow raised.

"Ash?" I give her a small smile.

"Subtlety has never been Goodfellow's forte," I explain to her, ignoring Goodfellow's scowl. "We're not here to cause a riot. And human emotions have always been easy to manipulate." The open, thankful look on her face disappears in an instant and I replay what I've just said to her. _Human emotions have always been easy to manipulate._ I bite back a curse. Fantastic – just when I was starting to edge out Puck, I manage to put my foot in it again and undo all of my work. I don't move from my spot and just watch as Meghan heads over to where the food is laid out, cursing my stupidity. Of course she's going to question her feelings for me. Especially after everything I've told her about me, and my life growing up in Tir Na Nog. I had hoped she would know that I would never, could never, manipulate her like that. Hell, I tried to push her away! If I was going to manipulate her, why wouldn't I have made her hate me so much that she would do anything to go home and forget about me? It would have made my life so much easier! But I didn't, because if I ever did anything like that to her, I would never be able to forgive myself. I sigh and rake a hand through my hair, as I edge towards a corner of the room, where I can watch Meghan in peace. All I have to do now, is make her realise that. Which, knowing Meghan, is going to be easier said than done.

Of course, Puck takes it upon himself to do what I'm dying to do. I watch him bow formally to Meghan, obviously asking her for a dance. If I wasn't so annoyed, I would have chuckled at the look on Meghan's face - like he's asked her to complete a complex mind puzzle rather than asking for a dance. But I am annoyed, and my bad mood only grows as I watch them dance. Goodfellow is a good dancer, not as good as I am, but he rarely has to dance at formal events like I do. Meghan is…nervous. Extremely nervous, but you can see the moment where she relaxes into the music, because her nervous stumbles are suddenly gone, and she looks like she's been dancing for years. Watching them reminds me of the last time I saw Meghan in a ball gown. Of the last time I held her in my arms and spun her round and round, teasing her for thinking too much. The last thing I want right now is company, but humans have never paid much attention to body language, and it's not long before three girls have surrounded me, blocking my view of Meghan and Puck. Which is probably a good thing considering the jealous rage that is slowly but surely building up in my stomach the longer the dance goes on.

"Hey. Haven't seen you around here before. Are you new?" One girl asks, a coy smile on her face.

"Something like that," I murmur back to her, with a small smile of my own. The glamour these girls alone are emitting is doing wonders for me.

"Are you here alone?"

"Not quite," that's sort of the truth anyway.

"Well, she obviously doesn't care about you if she's left you here holding up the wall while she's gone." The blonde girl says, and I bite down the sharp remark threatening to leave my lips. I need to keep these girls here – the sooner I regain my strength; the sooner I can reclaim Meghan. It takes a lot more will power than I thought it would, but I manage to keep my mouth shut.

"Hey, there's a party at Old Man Brody's house after the dance. Why don't you come with us? I promise you'll have a much better time than waiting here for your mystery girl to remember your name."

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm sure she'll be back in just a moment," I tell them, hoping that will be enough to get them to drop the subject. Of course not – that would be way too easy.

"Loyalty is something you don't find much around here – it's cute. But seriously, she's been gone a while now. Are you sure she hasn't gone off with some other guy?" Well, that hits a little close to home. I _know_ Meghan is with another guy – the guy I hate to be precise. But if I get my way, it won't be like that for much longer.

"I'm positive," I tell the girls. I have to give them credit, they're persistent. Most of the women at court would have given up by now. Not these girls.

"Are you sure we can't persuade you to ditch your date and come with us?" One of the girls is now practically hanging off my arm.

"I'm sure, though I do appreciate the offer." I smile at the girl attached to me but, before she can say anything else, the crowd shifts slightly, and I catch sight of Meghan in the arms of another guy. Where Goodfellow has disappeared to is anyone's guess, but at any rate, she doesn't look like she's having a particularly good time. I excuse myself from the girls and head over to where they're moving awkwardly in a small circle. I manage to catch the tail end of their conversation;

"Let's keep it a mystery, okay?" Meghan says, patting the guy's chest almost consolingly. The guy just looks confused and I can't help but feel for Meghan. She obviously used to know this guy but, the Nevernever has worked its magic again and now her name has been forgotten.

"Uh…okay. But, how will I get in touch with you? How will I know who to call?" I choose that moment to save Meghan from coming up with another excuse to pacify the boy.

"Excuse me," I say, my stomach turning a little as Meghan turns to face me, a smile already on her face. I hold my hand out to her, "may I cut in?" I hold the guys gaze, half expecting him to refuse. Humans don't have the same decorum that fey have to uphold at events like these. I needn't have worried though, as he steps away without a word. I smile at Meghan as she places her hand in mine and draw her close to me. After everything that's happened, it feels more than right to have her here in my arms again. I can't help but wonder if she senses it too. That _this_ is right. Not whatever Goodfellow is offering her. I don't say anything though, not wanting to ruin the moment and instead, rest my chin on top of her head, letting myself enjoy the moment.

"So, you seemed to be enjoying yourself back there." Meghan says suddenly. Do I detect a hint of jealousy in her voice? "Those girls found you very interesting, I suppose. What were you talking about?" Oh yes, I definitely detect jealousy there. I chuckle at her words, thinking back to the clingy girls who reminded me of the women I so despise at court.

"They invited me to a party after the dance," I tell her, pulling back slightly so that I can look at her properly. "I told them I was already with someone, so they spent the next few minutes trying to convince me to…ditch?…whomever I was with and join them. It was a rather interesting conversation."

"You could have just told them to go away," she says. I could have done yes, but that would have defeated the point of us being here, wouldn't it? Surely that's why we came here, so that I can partake in the abundance of glamour filling this room.

"That wouldn't have been very gentlemanly," I tell her, a small smile still on my face. It's a nice feeling, knowing Meghan was jealous of those girls. As if they could hold anything to her. "And it was advantageous for me to have them stay. There was enough glamour in that one corner to choke a dragon. Isn't that why we're here?"

"Oh," even under the changing lights, I can see her cheeks colour with embarrassment. "Right. It is. I just thought…never mind. I'll shut up now."

I frown at her. "What exactly are you accusing me of, Meghan Chase?" I have an inkling of course, but I want to hear her say it. I want to hear her say the words.

"I wasn't accusing," she says, burying her head into my shirt. Liar. "I just thought…with how easy it is to manipulate human emotions…that you, I don't know. Might find something more interesting than me." That's what she thinks?

"Ah," I say, catching hold of a ringlet of hair. Ah is not the word I want to use, but I've found with Meghan, if I remain calm and composed, then I usually manage to get my point across better. Even though that is usually easier said than done.

I've seen thousands of mortal girls," I tell her softly, "more than you could ever count, from all corners of your world. To me, they're all the same." I lift her chin up with my finger so that she can't hide from me. She needs to see the truth in what I'm telling her. "They see only this outer shell, not who I really am, beneath. You have. You've seen me without the glamour and the illusions, even the ones I show my family, the farce I maintain just to survive. You've seen who I really am, and yet, you're still here. You're here, and the only dance I want is this one." I want to kiss her again. I want to more than anything in this world, and, if the desire in her eyes is anything to go by, I'm not the only one. I'd barely have to move with how close I am to her right now. But I can't. The memory of holding her against the wall with my hand wrapped around her throat slams into me, effectively ruining the moment. I pull away from her with a heavy heart. A heart which only grows heavier when I hear her sigh and rest her head against my chest once more. The question that I asked her before, the one that she didn't answer is also burning a hole in the corner of my mind. And despite my mind screaming at me to just let it go, I can't.

"Since we're on the subject," kind of anyway. "You never answered my question." Meghan shifts in my arms to look up at me. I miss the weight straight away.

"What question?" She asks, frowning at me slightly. Of course, with everything that's happened in the past 24 hours, that one little question would have just slipped from her mind.

"Do you love him?" Her breath catches and I follow her gaze to where Puck is standing, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. _It's not nice when you're the one watching, is it Goodfellow?_ I turn back to look at Meghan, watching as her thoughts play out on her face. Eventually, she turns back to me, looking thoroughly miserable and my heart thuds at the look.

"I don't know," she whispers. I sigh and pull her tight against me. At least she's honest. Now I know where I stand. Now I know that I still have a chance. I rest my cheek against her head and close my eyes against the pulsing lights as we sway to the music.

 _I will win you back Meghan Chase. No matter what I have to do._

* * *

 **So, long time no see. I'm so sorry about how long it's taken me to get this chapter up! I've really struggled with this one (though I'm not sure why) but it's finally up and I really hope you guys enjoy it. Let me know what you think! xxx**


	14. Making a Choice

**Making a Choice**

I step through the circle after Meghan and Puck, into the Wyldwood. I turn to close the circle behind me, steeling myself for what is about to happen. Around us, the Wyldwood is alive with the sound of war; green lightning flashes overhead, shards of ice shatter around us and it's all carried on wind that has been swept up enough to make it seem like a tornado is careering through the NeverNever. A tornado would probably leave less damage. Summer and Winter are definitely at war, there's no doubt about that. I step forward towards Meghan and Puck, and stifle a sigh at the unmistakable scent of blood.

"Reaping Field is close," I tell them, raising my head to the wind, letting it carry the sounds and smell of war directly to me. I can't help but frown at what it tells me, "the fighting is well underway. I can smell the blood. Follow me." They must have been fighting for hours already, if the heavy, metallic scent of blood is anything to go by. If only Mab could have held off a little while longer, all of this could have been avoided. That would mean that Mab has some sort of impulse control however – I should have known the war would be well underway by now.

I lead Meghan and Puck through the woods, the scepter glowing a comforting bright blue in my hand, lighting up the dark woods around us enough so that I don't have to worry about Meghan tripping over a tree root or something in the dark. As we get closer, the sound of the storm gets louder and more violent, the thunder shaking the ground beneath us. I don't turn round to check on Meghan, I can't. Puck's with her; I need to concentrate on getting the scepter back to Mab before any more of our people have to die needlessly. That doesn't mean I don't worry about her though. Ironhorse's death has shaken her – I saw it before we left. This is probably the worst time in the world to be shaken right now and I hope that she realises that. That she realises she can grieve her loss later, after the fight.

I stop at the edge of the ice covered gulf, looking out over the Reaping Field. When Summer and Winter are…relatively peaceful, the Reaping Field is one of the many places I come to when I need a break from the politics at Tir Na Nog, especially when I was younger and I didn't understand that the ground beneath the hooves of my horse, are the burial grounds of thousands of people. This place is normally frozen in time, the ruins of Pendragon Keep, the frozen river – nothing moves here. Until one of the courts decides that the other has done something worthy of war. Like today for instance. Today, the usually peaceful plain is a sea of swarming colour, war cries and the sound of clashing metal fill the air, drowning out even the wind. Meghan takes one look at it and turns to look at Puck and I with tired defeat.

"We're going through that, aren't we?" I nod firmly, banishing the thought of Meghan falling at the hands of one of the soldiers below out of my mind. We would make it through this – after everything, we would make it through this.

"Look for Oberon or Mab. They'll likely be on opposite sides of the river. Try not to engage anything Goodfellow. We don't want a fight – we just want to get the scepter to the Queen." Despite me saying this, deep down, I know full well that it won't do any good. This is Robin Goodfellow after all. Still, I thought it better to try at least. True to form, Puck echoes my thoughts.

"Don't kid yourself prince," he says with a grin, pulling his daggers out and pointing one at me with more glee than should ever be seen when a war is brewing and Puck is in the vicinity. It only spells trouble. "You're a traitor, Meghan's the summer princess, and I'm Robin Goodfellow. I'm sure the ranks of Unseelie will just let us waltz right through." The only warning I get is a blast of wind as a shadow falls over us. Without thinking I turn and push Meghan out of the way, narrowly avoiding being taken out by the wyvern's tail. I look up to see that the three of us have been separated by the wyvern. And surprise, surprise, guess who owns the beast.

"Rowan!" Meghan gasps and I draw my sword in response, clutching it in my free hand as I hold the scepter behind me, as far from Rowan as I can. I start to creep forward, edging my way towards Meghan. If I can get close enough, I can capitalise on Rowan's mistake – he's landed the beast so that he's facing Meghan, not me.

"Well, well, well," my brother sneers. "Here you are again. The wayward princess and our traitor prince." I roll my eyes. And I think Goodfellow likes to drone on during our sparring matches. Don't move Ash," he says, turning to shoot me a dark look and I curse silently. "One tiny move and Thraxa will snap up your beloved half-breed faster than you can blink. You don't want to lose another girl to wyvern poisoning, do you?" I freeze, my grip on my sword faltering a little as I shoot a desperate look at Meghan. Silently begging her to understand why I have to do as my brother says. He's right, I can't lose anyone else in the same way that I lost Ariella. Least of all Meghan. I don't think I would survive losing her in any way, but to lose two girls to wyvern poison would be unbearable. And Rowan knows that all too well. And he will pay for threatening her with that fate. Even so, I remain frozen in place, trying not to think about Meghan lying still and cold in my arms.

"Good boy," Rowan says and I bite down the remark that I am not a dog before it slips loose. "This will all be over soon, don't worry." Rowan raises his fist and a dozen Thornguards emerge from the trees, effectively surrounding us. "It shouldn't be long now. Once the courts are done tearing each other to pieces, the Iron King's armies will sweep in, and everything will be over. But first, I'll need that scepter. Hand it over little brother." I tense as Rowan glares at me, unwilling to give up the bargaining chip that could let me go home at the end of all this, especially to Rowan. Before I can do anything however, Puck steps in front of me.

"Come and get it," he says, with all the confidence and arrogance that he possesses.

"Goodfellow," I murmur as a warning, although it's too low for it to do any good over the noise of the wind and the battle below. This is suicide. Whatever Goodfellow is planning is most likely going to get us all killed.

"Robin Goodfellow," Rowan smiles at him. "I've heard so much about you. You're the reason Ariella is dead, aren't you?" I wince. "A pity Ash won't ever take his revenge, but believe me when I say that this will be a pleasure. Thraxa. Kill." He says, waving an arm towards Puck. Thraxa hisses and lowers its head before it's jaws snap shut over Puck's head. I take a step back to avoid being taken out with him and just manage to stop myself from shaking my head in disbelief as Puck disappears in a shower of leaves. I should have known. The wyvern draws back, confused, leaving itself open for a familiar black raven to swoop in from the trees and aim for the wyvern's face. Puck makes his mark, digging a talon into one golden coloured eye. As the wyvern rears back with a screech, shaking its head to try and remove its stubborn addition, Meghan catches my attention. She eyes the tail carefully and, when the wyvern raises it once more, she ducks underneath and sprints towards me. I catch her in my arms, pulling her hard against me, my heart pounding in my ears as I realise just how close I actually am to losing Meghan to this creature. It's not safe for her here, but with the war raging down below, _nowhere_ is safe for her at the minute. So, for now, I stand there, holding her close to me, in a desperate effort to convince myself that I am enough to protect her from whatever the Wyldwood is going to throw at us. I watch as Puck manages to render the wyvern's eye into a useless mess, before releasing himself and coming to land beside Meghan and I. He's still laughing when he changes back to his usual form, like this is all one big joke – like we're not all in danger now that he's aggravated the wyvern and its owner. Robin Goodfellow really is an idiot sometimes.

"Kill them!" Rowan screams as the wyvern decides it's had enough of being in Goodfellow's presence and launches itself into the sky. "Kill them all and get that scepter! Don't let them ruin everything!" I ease Meghan behind me as the Thornguards advance.

"Stay back," I tell her as I hold my sword and the scepter out in front of me. Thornguards I can handle. I know their weaknesses; I've watched them train. My odds are much better fighting them than a wyvern. This is something that I can protect Meghan from, I'm sure of it. Another flash of lightning lights up the sky and, out of the corner of my eye, I see something white emerge from the edge of the woods. I don't have time to dwell on it though, not when the Thornguards are steadily advancing.

"Ash," Meghan murmurs, placing a hand on my arm. Somehow, I know I'm really not going to like what Meghan is about to say. "Give me the scepter." I shoot a look over my shoulder at her in shock. Why would she want the scepter? There's no way out of this right now unless we fight our way out, and there's no way I'm letting Meghan take part in that. After everything she's done tonight and in the last few days, I need to show her that I can protect her, that she doesn't always have to fight for everyone else. That there are people willing to fight for her too.

"What?"

"I'll get it to Mab. Just hold them off until I get across the field." My first reaction is to tell her no. To tell her that I'm not going to let her go on a suicide mission in the carnage below just so that Mab can get the scepter. On the other hand, Mab does need the scepter – sooner rather than later if the balance is to be restored. And this fight is going to take a while, that I'm sure of. Meghan closes her hand around the scepter, her fingers brushing mine. I watch her grit her teeth as the cold hits her skin and I can't help the warm feeling of pride that floats through me as she says, "I can do this." _I know you can_ is what I want to say, but that doesn't stop my natural instinct to keep her as far from the danger as I possibly can.

"Hey prince. Uh, you can join in anytime now. Whenever you're ready." Puck calls over his shoulder. Behind me, the unmistakable shriek of the wyvern echoes over the gulf, signalling Rowan's return. "Ash," she says desperately, meeting my eyes. "Ash," she whispers, placing her other hand over mine. "You have to trust me." And those words undo me. I do trust Meghan with my life and she is strong enough, and stubborn enough to survive this. I have to believe that. I shiver as icy cold tendrils float down my spine even as I nod at her and release my grip on the scepter. Meghan clutches the scepter to her as she carefully backs away and, despite the steadily advancing Thornguards, I keep my gaze firmly on her.

"Be careful," I tell her as my heart tears in two. She nods.

"I won't fail," she says, the silent promise echoing in my ears as the Thornguards let out a roar, forcing me to spin around, away from Meghan to help Puck fight.

 _I know you won't. But I need you to be careful Meghan Chase – you are far more important than that damn scepter_ I think to myself as I cut down one Thornguard after the other. I lose myself in the fight, focusing only on the next Thornguard, on the next death blow, anything to stop myself from thinking about Meghan crossing the carnage below us. Next to me, Puck is grinning wildly as he uses his many tricks to deceive and dodge the Thornguards surrounding him. Despite our focus, it doesn't take long until we're completely outnumbered and I edge backwards so that I'm back to back with Puck, my sword out in front of me.

"Any ideas ice boy?" Puck pants.

"Just do whatever it takes Goodfellow," I mutter back, eyeing up the group of guards in front of me.

"Oh I plan to prince, don't you worry. Just thought it would be nice to know if there was possibly a plan that would make sure we walked out of this alive."

"Scared Goodfellow?"

"Hell no prince. Just thought it would be nice to see what having a plan was like, you know." I roll my eyes, gripping my sword tighter as the guards charge towards us once more. "Guess it's too late now," Puck says, before he throws a dagger towards a Thornguard, spearing him in one of the few weak areas that their uniform provides us. I duck out of the way as the guards I'm fighting close around me and whirl a sword over my head. I dart forward, trying to hit one of them, but there's now too many of them and I'm shoved to the floor. It's not often that I wish I had some of Puck's tricks, but this is one of them. What I wouldn't give for setting a rabid badger or whatever those fuzzy balls of pain he has do… As I struggle to get to my feet once more, one of the guards grins down at me.

"Well, well, well. Look at the little prince boys. You know, hearing the rumours and stories at court makes you out to be a credible fighter. Not very credible from down there though, are you? I'm disappointed Your Highness. I was expecting more of a fight from you." With that, he drives his sword down towards my chest. I manage to roll out of the way, far enough not to do any serious damage, but I don't escape injury entirely. Pain sparks down my left side but I ignore it as I push myself to my feet once more, narrowing my eyes at the group surrounding me.

"Allow me to show you just how credible a fighter I am," I say darkly, gesturing with my sword. They sneer at me, but advance, just like I hoped they would. It is an incredibly satisfying feeling; proving people wrong. It's even more satisfying to watch as those people realise they were wrong about you. Which is what happened about ten seconds into this new fight. One by one, each guard realised they had made a big mistake underestimating me. Underestimating the lengths, I will go to, to protect the one person who makes my life worth living. The person I should be next to right now; not here taking part in a petty fight to prove my worth. But I suppose needs must. Behind me, I can hear Puck finishing up too and by the time I've cut down each guard bar one, we're both covered in dirt and blood but the job is done. I turn to face the leader, who I've saved for last, smirking at the sight of him curled up on the ground, clutching at his injuries. Pitiful really, for a highly trained Thornguard. My brother should choose his men more carefully.

"Hey princeling, looks like you've missed one. Looks like you're losing your touch," Puck says with a grin as he flips his daggers nonchalantly in the air. "Do you need me to finish it off for you?" I roll my eyes at him.

"Enough Goodfellow. This one lives. At least for now."

"Seriously?" I raise an eyebrow at him until he holds his hands up in surrender. "Okay, fine. This one lives. I just hope you know what you're doing Ash." I step towards the guard and rest my boot on the gash in his stomach.

"I want to make this perfectly clear. The only reason you are still alive is because you need to confess your traitorous acts to your Queen. What she chooses to do with you after that will, most likely, be a fate worse than death. It will be a lot more painful than anything that we could do to you. That being said, is there anything you would like to confess now?"

"Rowan…" he gasps. "We were only following his orders."

"That may be thornbush, but you're first and only duty should be to your Queen. As should Rowan's. I don't think that argument is going to go down too well with old frosty knickers." Puck says. I wait a moment longer to give the guard a chance to say something else, but he seems to be resigned to his fate. I share a look with Puck and we both grab an arm and haul him out of the clearing and down towards the battle. By the time we get there, they fey have stopped, which I hope means Meghan has managed to return the Scepter of the Seasons to Mab successfully. The closer we get to the middle of the field, the more the guard between us starts to moan. Until puck stops and kicks him in the stomach to shut him up and I can't help but smirk at him. It lasts until I catch sight of Meghan standing in front of Oberon…and Mab. She might not act like a mother, but, considering Sage is dead and Rowan is a traitor, technically she's the only family I have left. And after everything I've done since I met Meghan Chase, she despises me. I take a breath and steel myself for what's about to come. It all seems reasonably quiet – could Meghan have convinced Mab of the real culprits behind Sages death and the theft of the Scepter? The answer to that seems to be a hesitant yes. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem like she's managed to convince Mab her other son is a traitor.

"Rowan is working with the Iron fey; him and the Thornguards. They…they want to become like them, immune to iron. They think—"

"Enough!" Mab's shriek echoes over the battlefield, making everyone, including Goodfellow and I flinch. "Where is your proof, half-breed? Do not expect me to accept these blasphemous claims without proof—you are a human and can lie so easily! You say my son has betrayed his court and kin, to side with these iron abominations that none have seen? Very well! Show me proof!" She points a finger at Meghan and my heart stops for a moment as I hear the vindictive triumph in her voice. She thinks she's won this. Well, if I'm really going to cross my mother in every way possible, I should do it properly. "If you have none, you are guilty of slandering the royal family, and I will punish you as I see fit!"

"I don't—" Meghan starts but stops abruptly as the crowds around her part to let us through. As one, Puck and I throw the Thornguard at Mab's feet to try and grovel his way out of death. Pucks straightens, and wipes the trail of blood that's come from his mouth off of his face. Huh. Goodfellow is bleeding? And he said I'm losing _my_ touch.

"There's your proof," he says. Well, spits is probably more accurate. Honestly, how he gets away with doing these things in front of the monarchs is beyond me, even after all this time of knowing him.

"Goodfellow," Oberon says, making Puck wince. Maybe he doesn't get away with as much as I thought after all. "What is the meaning of this?" Before he can answer, Mab steps in.

"Ash," she says in a way that only means trouble is brewing. "What a surprise to find you here, in the company of the Summer girl and Robin Goodfellow. Would you care to add anything more to your list of crimes?" Here we go.

"My queen. The princess speaks the truth. Rowan is a traitor to us. He sent his elite guard to bolster the armies of the Iron fey, he allowed them access into the palace, and he is responsible for the death of Prince Sage. Were it not for Robin Goodfellow and the Summer princess, the scepter would be lost, and the armies of the Iron King would overwhelm us." Mab narrows her eyes at me and I hasten to stifle my shudder. Instead I step back and nod at the moaning Thornguard in front of me. "If you doubt my word, my queen, just ask him for the truth. I'm sure he would be happy to tell you everything."

"Screw it," Puck says, stalking past me. "Or you could just do this." He dives on the guards, repeating my actions from earlier, although with a force that I didn't possess. The guards arms come up to protect himself and Puck grabs one of his gauntlets, ripping it away and holding up his wrist, letting the tang of metal fill the air as the crowds get a glimpse of the guards blackened hand; the iron ring on his finger glinting in the sunlight. "There!" Puck says, throwing the arm down and stepping away. "That proof enough for you? Every one of these bastards has one of those rings on, and it's not a fashion statement. If you want more proof, check the brambles at the top of the hill. We left this one alive to explain his little coup ambitions to his queen." Mab turns to face the guard, who goes pale and starts spilling his secrets immediately. I thought he had more sense than thinking Mab actually cared about what he has to say. Apparently, I was wrong.

"My queen, I can explain. Rowan ordered us to. I was acting on his command. He said it was the only way to save us. Please, I never wanted to…please, no!" Mab waves a hand in his direction and, with a flash of blue, ice coats the guard and I watch as it draws up over his face, sealing him within it. A fate worse than death. I've always hated the statues that Mab has around court because they quite literally watch you.

"He will tell me everything later." Mab smiles coldly. "Oh, yes. He will be begging to tell me. Where is Rowan?" The crowds begin to mutter quietly and I watch as Meghan glances over at the dead wyvern body. Rowan is long gone.

"Lady Mab," Oberon says. "In light of this newest revelation, I propose a temporary truce. If the Iron King does plan to attack us, I'd prefer to meet him with my forces strong and ready. We will speak on this later, but for now I will be taking my people back to Arcadia. Meghan, Goodfellow. Come." Meghan glances over at me and I give her a small smile. This is good. She's going back to where she's safe. From Arcadia, Puck can protect her and, if she wants to go home, I'm sure Oberon will allow her that. Either way, she'll be safe. That's all that I need to know.

"Not so fast, my dear Oberon," Mab says with a smug smile. I share a look with Puck that roughly translates to _are you going to grab Meghan or am I?_ Because there is no way this is ending well for her. In response, Puck edges a little closer to Meghan. "I believe you are for getting something. The laws of our people apply to your daughter, as well. She must answer for turning my son against me. She must be punished for tricking him into helping her escape Tir Na Nog."

"That wasn't Meghan's decision." I tell her, ignoring the look that Meghan sends me. I am not going to let her take the fall for this one. "It was mine. I made the choice. She had nothing to do with it." Mab turns to face me and beckons me forward. I comply immediately because, what choice do I have?

"Ash," she says. "My poor boy. Rowan told me what happened between the two of you, but I know you had your reasons. Why would you betray me?" _Here we go. It's now or never._

"I love her." It's quiet, especially after the noise of war, but no one can doubt the sincerity of my words. Not even the half human girl in front of me, with wide eyes and a look of disbelief.

"You love her," Mab says knowingly. "The half-breed daughter of the Summer lord."

"Yes." I keep my gaze focused on Mab, on my Queen. Knowing that if I look at Meghan now, my resolve will break. I will give everything away and Mab will know that I have absolutely no intention of doing what I should do. Of doing my duty to my court and to my Queen.

"Ash. "You're confused. I can see it in your eyes. You didn't want this, did you? Not after Ariella." That was a low blow and she knows it. "You know what comes next, don't you?"

"I swear an oath," I whisper, "never to see her again, never to speak to her again, to sever all relationships and return to the Winter Court." Even speaking of the oath that would prevent me from ever seeing Meghan again breaks my heart.

"Yes. Swear the oath and all is forgiven. You can come back to Tir Na Nog. Return to the palace, and take your place as heir to the throne. Sage is gone, and Rowan is dead to me." Mab places a kiss on my cheek and steps back. "You are the last prince of Winter. It is time to come home." If I did this, I would be saving us both. It would be hard – the hardest thing I would ever do in my life, but I could still go out to the Wyldwood to see Goodfellow. To check she's okay. I would be saving us both. But I know – I've always known – that I can't do it. I can't not be with her, not again. Not when the last time almost killed us both.

"I-" I turn to face Meghan, begging for her forgiveness for what I'm about to do. For what I'm about to make her do. She turns away, tears shining in her eyes and I know she believes that I'm about to make that oath. "I can't." I say quietly. You could hear a pin drop on the field. "Forgive me, but I can't…I won't…give her up. Not now, when I've just found her." Mab stills – and when Mab is still, you know that danger is right around the corner. As if to drive that point home, the air around us drops.

"You know what will happen, if you refuse."

"I know," I say. I want this to be over already. If I'm going – then let me go.

"Their world will eat at you," Mab says. "Strip you away bit by bit. Cut off from the Nevernever, you will not survive. Whether it takes one mortal year or a thousand, you will gradually fade away, until you simply cease to exist." She steps closer, pointing at Meghan with the scepter. "She will die, Ash. She is only human. She will grow old, wither and die, and her soul will flee to a place you cannot follow. And then, you will be left to wander the mortal world alone, until you yourself are only a memory. And after that—" she opens her empty fist "—nothing. is your final chance, Prince. Give me your solemn vow, or be damned to the mortal world forever. Make your choice."

"I already have." I say as I take one more look at Meghan, knowing with every fibre of my being that I'm doing the right thing.

"So be it." I don't think I've ever seen Mab so…upset before. She waves the scepter and, with a sharp crack, a rip appears in the air, widening into a jagged archway. Beyond the arch, a flickering streetlamp glimmered, and rain pounded the road, hissing. "From this day forth, Prince Ash is considered a traitor and an exile. All trods will be closed to him, all safe holds are barred, and if he is seen anywhere within the Nevernever, he is to be hunted down and killed immediately." She looks at me, her face alight with fury. "You are not my son. Get out of my sight." Without another word, I take a breath and step through the gateway, into the pouring rain, contemplating what I've just done. And hoping, selfishly hoping, that maybe, just maybe, it might have all been worth it in the end. Within seconds, I'm wet through, but I don't move from my spot next to the gateway, silently watching it. I can't hear anything over the noise of this world, but I can see the sunlight filtering through. It takes a while, longer than I thought it would. Long enough to make me question my decision. And then, she stumbles through and I bite back a chuckle. From day one, Meghan Chase has been the only princess in the history of the Nevernever to have problems with her balance.

"Ash!" She calls frantically, and my heart constricts at the sight of her. Her torn ball gown, now hanging limply off her in the rain that is surely freezing her bare arms as it hits them. She sounds…scared? Worried? That I'm not going to be here. "Ash I'm here! Where are you?" There's a pause before she shouts again, her voice strained with tears. "Ash! Ash!"

"You'll wake everyone up if you keep shouting like that," I say, watching as she whirls around in surprise to face me. The nerves that have been running through me from the moment I knew what I had to do, settle at the sight of her. At the sight of the girl who has given up the chance to stay with Puck, her best friend in the whole world and be safe to be with…me. "You came after me," I tell her.

"You didn't think I'd let you go off alone, did you?"

"I was hoping," I tell her, though there was a much bigger part of me that was hoping she wouldn't. I step forward and hug her close to me, smiling softly as her arms loop round my waist and squeeze back. Meghan is here. With me. It seems like a long time before I pull back, though I don't release my arms. I can't bring myself to – not right now. "So," I say. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know," Meghan says, shivering as my fingers brush her cheek when I tuck a strand of wet hair behind her ear. At least, I'm hoping that's what she's shivering at. "I think…I should go home soon. Mom and Luke are probably going nuts. What about you?"

I shrug. "You tell me. When I left the Nevernever, I didn't have any plans other than being with you. If you want me around, just say the word."

A multitude of emotions flicker across her face, though the most prominent is pain. And I hate seeing it there. "Don't leave," she whispers eventually, tightening her hold on me, like she's afraid I'll disappear. "Never leave me again. Stay with me. Forever."

For the first time in a long time, I smile at her. A true smile as I bend down to kiss her. "I promise." I tell her, knowing that this is one promise I will be more than happy to keep.

* * *

 **It's done! That's it - The Iron Daughter is finally finished! These last few chapters have been torture to write - I think it's because Ash isn't as prominent in this book as he is in the others, which makes my life a lot harder because he's not exactly chatty at the best of times - when you try to get him to talk about his feelings, it's easier to draw blood from a stone! Anyway, it's finished and now we're moving on to Book 3 - The Iron Queen! Let me know what you think about this chapter guys, I hope it's okay. xx**


	15. A Tale of Two Lovers

**A Tale of Two Lovers**

"Bring me a token Meghan Chase," the oracle whispers, "and I will give you back your memory." With that, she was gone. "Great," Meghan says as she turns to face me with a hopeless expression. "So, we need to find a Token thing. I suppose they're not just lying around for the taking, huh? Any ideas?" I do have one actually, though getting the Token will be tricky. I glance down at her.

"I might know where we can find one," I tell her. "But it's not a place humans like to visit, especially at night." It's not a place I particularly like to visit to be honest, but needs must. Meghan startles me a little by laughing at my words.

"What, you don't think I can handle it?" I raise an eyebrow at her. It's not that I don't think she can handle it; she's dealt with Goodfellow for the last sixteen years, but this Token is hidden in a place that most Unseelie avoid if they have any sense, let alone humans. She frowns at me and I bite back a smile. I know that look all too well. "Ash, I've been through Arcadia, Tir Na Nog, the Briars, the Between, the Iron Realm, Machina's tower, and the killing fields of the Nevernever. I don't think there's a place capable of freaking me out anymore." Really? Consider this challenge accepted Meghan Chase.

"All right then," I say, leading her back out into New Orleans. "Follow me."

To give credit where credit is due, she lasts longer than I thought she would. Walking down the rows of tombstones in the dead city at night is enough to scare most people witless, and many avoid coming her altogether – whatever it is you want, there is always somewhere less horrifying to find one. And while that is true for the Token, we don't have time to go and find another one; especially now that the trods through the Nevernever are closed to us. The row isn't quite wide enough for us to walk side by side but, not long after we enter the city, I feel Meghan press closer to me, and I bite back a grin. Despite the rumours that used to float around court, I'm not an especially vindictive person. Don't get me wrong, there are times when I could quite happily stand back and watch someone be punished if they deserve it. In the days after Ariella died, there were numerous times when I tried to imagine the pain she went through, and then imagining Goodfellow feeling the same way. But those are extreme circumstances, and I don't take much pleasure usually in terrifying people. But, I can't lie and say that feeling Meghan shudder slightly with whatever horrible creatures she's imagining are lining the row we're walking down, doesn't make me smile a little, if only because of her little speech before we left the museum. I do like being proved right. I don't say anything though, because I know it wouldn't go down well if I did. So we walk in silence. Until Meghan grabs my sleeve and pulls me to a halt. I turn round, already fearing the worst; when she throws herself into my arms with such force that I almost topple over. I tighten my arms around her as she buries her face into my chest, my worry mixing with the happiness at being able to hold her in my arms like this and for no one to tell me that it's wrong.

"Meghan? What's wrong?" I ask her, pushing the happiness down for the moment, as I scan the cemetery for whatever it is that's scared her.

"A ghost," she whispers, pointing over to the left. "I saw a ghost. Over there." I follow her finger and spot the offending 'ghost' and relax my grip slightly when I realise what it is.

"Bean sidhe," I say quietly, not even bothering to hide my amusement at her dramatics. "It's not unusual to see them here. they often hang around graveyards after the dead have been buried." Meghan twists slightly to watch as the bean sidhe floats away, further into the graveyard. Once it's gone, she's pulls away, although, I can't help but notice that she doesn't let go.

"Aren't bean sidhes supposed to be off wailing somewhere? Why is she hanging around here?"

"Plenty of glamour to be found in old cemeteries. You can feel it, can't you?" It's one of the many reasons I don't particularly like coming here. The stench of fear and grief reminds me of losing Ariella. It's not a place that I'd want to spend any extended length of time in.

"Awful," Meghan says, gagging as she takes in the potent glamour. I can't blame her. It only reinforces the fact that we should get in and get out as quickly as possible; if only so that we don't have to keep taking the glamour in.

"I don't much care for it, but several of our kind prefer grief and fear over anything else. So graveyards tend to attract them, especially at night." I tell her.

"Like the bean sidhe?"

"Bean sidhe are portents of death and sometimes hang around the site of their last mark. But there are others, like bogies and galley beggars, whose sole purpose in life is to frighten mortals. We could see a few of them here, but they won't bother you if you're not afraid." I still have Meghan in my arms and I'm in no hurry to change that any time soon. It makes us both feel better.

"Too late," she mutters and I chuckle quietly, hurriedly biting it back when she turns to glare at me. "Just so you know," she says, poking me in the chest. "I am going to kill you later for bringing me here."

"I look forward to it," I tell her with a smile.

"You wait. You'll be sorry when something grabs me and I scream loud enough to wake the dead." My smile widens as I let her go. We really should be going; not loitering around here waiting for exactly that to happen.

"They'll have to get past me first," I promise her. "Besides, most things that would grab you are just nursery bogies – irritating, but harmless. They only want to scare you. The real threat will be the Grim – assuming this cemetery has one." I sober at the thought. A Grim is nothing to joke about – they take their role of guarding the inhabitants of their cemetery incredibly seriously and if they find you disturbing the dead, then you better be in good shape, or be Robin Goodfellow. Otherwise, you'll be joining the dead you disturbed.

"What's a Grim?" Meghan asks, shivering a little. With the glamour coming off of her right now, I would give practically anything to know just what she's imagining a Grim looks like. Knowing Meghan and her many hours spent with Goodfellow watching horror movies, it's probably more gruesome than the real thing. Before I can answer her, a howl cuts through the air, making me still and Meghan jump. Speak of the devil…

"Let me guess," Meghan sighs. "That was a Grim." I turn away, squeezing Meghan's hand gently.

"Let's go," I say quietly. We head quickly down several more aisles of tombs and mausoleums before I stop outside a small stone mausoleum. A simple wooden door and a tiny warn plaque mark it's age and I stare at it sadly for a moment, remembering the reason I know it's here, and that it contains what we need. Just one of the many tragedies I've seen come to pass in my life.

"Whose tomb is this?" Meghan asks as I walk up the steps and press my hand against the door.

"An older couple, no one important," I say softly as I run my fingers up and down the wood, remembering the man that used to haunt my home. The man who never forgot. Behind me, the sound of an animal stalking through the dead leaves on the ground shocks me back into the present and I glance back at Meghan. "Meghan, get up here, now."

"We're going inside?" If I wasn't on the lookout for the Grim, I would have chuckled. How else did she think we were going to get the Token? But I am looking out for the Grim, and so instead I tell her,

"Once I open the door, the Grim will know we're here. Its duty is to guard the cemetery, and the remains of those in it, so it's not going to be happy about us disturbing the dead. You don't want to be out here alone when it comes, trust me." That brings Meghan to my side in an instant.

"What is this thing, anyway?" She asks. "Can't you just slice your way past it, or turn us invisible for that matter?"

"It's not that easy," I reply, though I really wish it was. It would make this task much simpler. "Church Grims are immune to magic and glamour—they see right through it. And even if you kill one, it doesn't die. To destroy a Grim, you have to dig up and burn its real body, and we don't have the time." I turn back to the door, and murmur _oscailte_ under my breath before pushing open the door and leading Meghan inside. It's hot inside, and the air smells like death and decay. Within seconds of the door closing behind us, Meghan presses her face into my shoulder and I can feel her trying not to gag on the smell. I take a moment to silently pay my respects to the two skeletons lying on the stone table in front of me, long, yellow bone fingers wrapped round each other; a declaration of their love even in death. On one finger lies the object we need; a tarnished ring. If it was anyone else, I'd probably refuse to do this. This couple deserve to rest in peace after everything they had been through. If it was anyone else but Meghan, I wouldn't be doing this. But, considering the circumstances, I guess this couple would have more reason than most to understand why I am doing this. For her.

"Who are they?" Meghan asks quietly. I hesitate for a moment; debating on whether to tell her this story. It's not particularly happy but then again, most tales concerning the Nevernever end with a happily ever after.

"There is a story about a talented saxophone player who went to Mardi Gras one night and caught the eye of a faery queen. And the queen bid him come to her, because he was young and handsome and charming, and his music could set one's soul on fire. But the sax player refused, because he already had a wife, and his love for her was greater than even the beauty of the faery queen. And so, angry that he spurned her, the queen took him anyway, and held him in the Nevernever for many long days, forcing him to entertain her. But no matter what the young man saw in Faery, and no matter how much the queen tried to make him her own, even when he forgot his own name, he could not forget his wife back in the mortal world. "Time passed, and the queen finally released him, because it amused her to do so. And when the young human, his head filled with memories both real and imagined, returned to his beloved wife, he found her aged sixty years, while he had not changed a day since he vanished from the mortal world. She still wore his ring, and had not taken another husband or suitor, for she always believed he would return." I can feel Meghan's gaze on me and I know she understands. I know she understands that this isn't just a rumour that has floated through the courts. This happened in my home. I had to watch as this tale played out to its bitter conclusion. And a part of me still hate myself for not trying to help him, for not trying to find some way for him to see his wife again. Logically I know that, when this tale unfolded, I was much younger and more reckless and I would never have gotten away with it. I didn't get away with it this time with Meghan – I'd never have gotten away with it back then.

"What happened after that?" Meghan asks, glancing at me with a hopeful expression on her face. I want to tell her that they lived happily for the remaining years she had left but I can't. Instead I just sigh and shake my head at her.

"Neighbours found them days later lying in bed, a young man and a shrunken old woman, their fingers intertwined in an unbreakable grip and their faces turned toward one another. The blood from their wrists had already dried on the sheets."

Meghan's gaze travels back to the skeletons before returning to meet my own gaze, and I can almost see her mind turning over some new problem in her mind. I frown. Even from across the table I can see the glamour pouring off her in nervous waves.

"Meghan?" I ask quietly. "What is it?" Instead of getting an answer, Meghan just stares at me, determination filling her gaze. Before I can ask again, a thud above us sends a cloud of dust over us. Meghan coughs and waves a hand in front of her to clear it.

"What was that?" She asks in between the coughs. I glance up at the ceiling, knowing full well what's out there. We've spent far too long in here and it's given the Grim a chance to catch up with us.

"Our signal to leave," I say, reaching over and grabbing the old, tarnished ring off the skeletons hand and throwing it to Meghan. "Here. There's your token," I say before grabbing a second ring on the hand closest to me – the hand that can't be seen by Meghan and putting it into my coat pocket. It's always better to be prepared, and a Token is a much sought after thing in the fey world. I step away from the table and back towards Meghan. "Let's get out of here."

I pull the door open and motion Meghan out. As she does, a long line of drool drops from above her, hitting her neck. I follow her gaze up towards the roof of the mausoleum to see the red eyes of the Grim staring back at us.

"Ash," Meghan says, fear pouring off of her in waves. "Is that-?"

"The Grim," I say as I pull my sword out. "Meghan, when I say 'go' run forward, not away from it. Understand?"

"Yeah. I'm ready." Later, when we get out of this graveyard, I'll be thrilled by the idea of Meghan trusting me so immediately and wholeheartedly. But for now, I have to focus on getting us out of this graveyard. Our warning comes in the form of an ear splitting howl, and for a moment, I worry that Meghan doesn't hear me when I yell 'GO' at her. Luckily, she manages it and, as we both run forward, the Grim leaps, landing right where Meghan had been standing just a moment ago. "Run!" I shout. "We have to get off the grounds, now!" I throw a scattering of ice shards at the beast, distracting it just long enough to give us a couple of seconds head start. It's not much, but it might just give us enough of an edge to keep us alive.

We set off, zigzagging down the rows of graves; the Grim close behind us. In the back of my mind, I can't help but wonder if this memory that Meghan is so desperate to reclaim is worth this. Eventually, with the Grim now right behind us, I see the white wall that marks the edge of the cemetery. I reach it just before Meghan, and I spin round, positioning my hands into a makeshift step for her to use. She pushes up and grabs hold of the wall. I launch myself into the air, landing on the top of the wall easily, and grab hold of her arm, pulling her up to join me on the top of the wall. Behind us, another howl fills the night air and Meghan turns to look. Before I can shout a warning, the Grim's mouth is in front of us, it's teeth bared ready for the kill. I pull Meghan back, seconds before that mouth closes on Meghan, pulling us off the wall, hitting the ground on the other side of the cemetery with a thud. We lay there in the grass panting, as the Grim stares down at us from the cemetery wall before eventually dropping out sight with a final snarl in our direction. When I'm sure it's gone, I let my head fall back into the grass and let out a breath of relief.

"I will say this," I say as I fight to regain my breath. "Being with you is never boring." We lie there in silence for a few more moments before I hear her turn in the grass. I turn my head to face her and open my eyes so that I can see her. Now that she's turned, she's almost lying on top of me and with one arm lying on top of me I can feel her heart start to beat faster. If the worry that lined her eyes straight after weren't there, I would have kissed her then and there. But she was worried. Again.

"You're worried again." I tell her, narrowing my eyes at her, my own worry beating off of me like a drum. "It seems you're always worried, and I can't do anything to help."

"You could stop reading my emotions every time I turn around," She says with a scowl. "If it bothers you so much, you could find something else to focus on."

"Can't help it," I reply, the relief that we've survived this latest ordeal helping to ease my concern about Meghan. At least I know I've got time to figure out what's bothering her. "The more we're connected to our chosen someone, the more we can pick up on what they're feeling. It's instinctive, like breathing."

"You can't hold your breath?" I know my mouth twitches, threatening to break out into a grin, and I have to fight not to smirk at her. Something tells me doing that wouldn't be a smart idea right now.

"I suppose I could block it out, if I tried." I tell her.

"Uh-huh. But you're not going to, are you?"

"No." I say, reaching up to run my fingers through her hair, marvelling at how soft and light it is as it slips through my fingers. "I want to know when you're worried, when you're angry or happy or sad. You can probably do the same to me, though I'm slightly better at shielding my emotions. More practice." Memories of my life in Tir Na Nog threaten to overcome me and I push them away harshly. I'm not going to let them spoil this moment. "Unfortunately, the longer we're together, the harder hiding it will become, for both of us. One of the hazards of having a faery in love with you." She stares at me for a moment, before leaning down and kissing me. I slide my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me. In all the time since I've known Meghan, this is the first time we've truly had alone, without a possible death sentence hanging over our heads. Yes, we have to get Meghan's memory back and go to see the Exile Queen, but, in the grand scheme of things, those things aren't pressing. This is the first time we can relax and I feel myself letting go of some of the barriers I've spent my life building, losing myself in kissing Meghan and of her kissing me back. She chose to be with me. Of all the things to have chosen, she chose this. And I haven't been able to show her how thankful I am of her sacrifice. Of course, I would have continued to do just that, if I hadn't realised that we were being watched. I groan in frustration as I pull away and I'm not sure whether to be amused or not by this latest turn of events. _One day_ I promise myself _we won't be interrupted._ Meghan stares down at me, a hint of confusion in her eyes.

"We have an audience," I murmur to her. She sits up and looks around, scanning for the intruder. It doesn't take her long to notice the familiar large, grey cat sat on top of the cemetery wall.

"Grimalkin!" She says, scrambling to her feet. "Dammit, Grim! Do you plan these things? How long were you watching us?" I sigh softly and copy her actions, standing behind her quietly as I pull the leaves from my hair. Kissing in the grass is all good in theory, until you realise the humans really need to invest in a better groundskeeper.

"So nice to see you as well, human." The cat glances over at me with an amused look. "And it is good to know the rumors are entirely true."

"Why are you here, Grim?" Meghan demands. "I don't have any more debts you can collect on. Or did you just get bored?"

"Do not flatter yourself, human. Though it is always amusing to watch you flounder about, I am not here for my own entertainment." The cat scrubs its paw over its face, before moving onto its claws, taking its own sweet time before turning to Meghan again. "When Leanansidhe heard why you were banished from the Nevernever, she could not believe it. I told her humans are unreasonable and irrational when it comes to their emotions, but to have the Winter prince exiled as well…she was sure it was a false rumor. Mab's son would never defy his queen and court, to be banished to the mortal world with the half-blood daughter of Oberon." Grimalkin snorts. "In fact, we made a rather interesting bet on it. She will be terribly annoyed when she hears she has lost." I'll bet she will. That's the last thing we need – the Queen of the Exile's in a bad mood. Fantastic. Meghan glances back at me and I make sure to keep my expression neutral – the last thing I want to do is worry her more than she already is. "So, naturally, when you disappeared from the Nevernever, Leanansidhe asked me to find you. She wishes to speak to you, human. Now." He jumps off the wall and starts to walk away. "Follow me. I will show you the trod to the Between from here. And human, there are rumours of Iron fey hunting you as well, so I suggest we hurry."

"No." Meghan says. "I'm not done here. Leanansidhe wants to talk to me? Good, I have some things to talk to her about, as well. But I am not going into her mansion, knowing my dad is right there, and still having no idea who he is. I'm getting my memory back. Until then, she can just wait." I brush my hand against her arm, a silent way of telling her I'm proud of her. It takes a brave person to defy any Queen, least of all Leanansidhe.

"Defying Leanansidhe. I had no idea it was going to be so interesting." Grimalkin purrs, narrowing his eyes at Meghan. "Very well, human. I will accompany you, if only to see the Exile Queen's face when you tell her the reason she had to wait." She reaches back and threads her fingers through mine before heading back towards the voodoo museum. I share a look with Grimalkin, one of approval and pride, which, coming from Grimalkin is a huge compliment. Of course, that emotion is gone in the blink of an eye but it was definitely there. The half human girl who stumbled into the Nevernever to save her brother has defied all expectations and is probably the bravest and strongest person I have ever met. And, in this moment, watching her out of the corner of my eye, I have never fought so hard for a girl in my life, and I can't quite believe I won. But she's here and, if the grip on my hand is anything to by, she's not going anywhere right now. In my life, where people come and go faster than you can say 'Your Majesty,' it's a refreshing change and one that I will fight to keep – no matter what I have to do.

* * *

 **So while I don't normally call people out who request chapters (because there are a lot of you!) for this chapter I'm going to make an exception. This was requested by fandomsareforever15 who requested this just in time. I was actually about 20 words in to starting what is going to be the next chapter when this one was requested and, since I'm trying to keep this in order of the events in the book, here we go! I hope you enjoy it! Contrary to my current posting schedule (schedule? What schedule?) I do actually start the next chapter soon after posting this one so if you have a request get it in quick! Thank you for all your reviews they really make my day reading them. Let me know what you think of this chapter! xxx**


	16. The Fight

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the dialogue - they belong to the wonderful Julie Kagawa. I'm just playing with them a little bit ;)**

* * *

 **The Fight**

"Stole?" Leanansidhe sits back crossing her legs nonchalantly. "Stole? I'm quite certain you mean saved, don't you, pet?"

"I—What are you talking about?" Meghan asks, bewildered

"Oh, so you haven't heard this story. Puck, darling, shame on you. You never told her." Both Meghan and I turn to look at Puck who keeps his gaze firmly on the carpet, not meeting either of our gazes. My stomach sinks for Meghan as the realisation that Goodfellow hasn't been entirely truthful with her hits home.

"Well this is an unexpected drama. How fabulous! I must set the stage." Leanansidhe claps her hands and a spotlight appears over the piano. It seems the rumours about the Exile Queen are true, she does have a flair for the dramatics. Even in moments that are completely inappropriate.

"Lea, don't." Puck says quietly and I'm a little surprised at how…pained he sounds. Whatever he's kept from Meghan, he knows that it's coming back to bite him now. "Not this way. Let me explain it to her." Leanansidhe turns to face him and shakes her head and I'm glad that she's not going to give him a chance to explain, no matter how she's going to explain it to Meghan, Puck's had years to tell her the truth. And Leanansidhe tells him exactly that.

No, darling. I think it's time the girl knew the truth. You had plenty of time to tell her, so this is no fault but your own." Puck finally tries to meet Meghan's gaze, but this time, Meghan is the one who ignores him as the room goes dark and music begins to flow from the empty piano.

"Once upon a time, there were two mortals. "In mortal eyes, they were unremarkable. Two souls in a throng of identical humans. But to the faery world, they were fountains of glamour, beacons of light in the darkness. An artist whose paintings almost sang with a life of their own, and a musician whose soul was intertwined in his music, their love only heightened their talents."

"Wait," Meghan interrupts. Leanansidhe blinks in surprise and drops her hands at the interruption and I can't quite hold back a smile. Only Meghan could get away with interrupting the Exile Queen and come away unscathed. "I think you have it wrong. My dad wasn't a great musician, he was an insurance salesman. I mean, I know he played the piano, but if he was so good, why didn't he do anything with it?"

"Who is telling the story here, pet?" Leanansidhe replies hotly, making the lights flicker. "Don't you know the term 'starving artist'? Your father was very gifted, but music did not pay the bills. Now, do you want to hear this story or not, pet?"

"Sorry," Meghan mumbles. "Go on, please."

"They got married and, as humans do, began to drift apart. The man took a new job, one that required him to leave home for long periods of time; his music dwindled and soon ceased altogether. His wife continued to paint, less frequently than before, but now her art was filled with longing, a yearning for something more. And perhaps that was what drew the eye of the Summer King." Meghan tenses and I squeeze her shoulder, reminding her that she's not alone in this. I know the idea that her mother slept with Oberon has never sat right with Meghan.  
"Not long after, a child was born, a child of two worlds, half faery and half mortal. During that time, there was much speculation in the Summer Court, wondering if the child should be taken into Faery and raised as Oberon's daughter, or if she was to stay in the human world with her mortal parents. Unfortunately, before a decision could be made, the family fled with the child, spiriting her far away and out of Oberon's reach. To this day, no one knows how they accomplished this, though there was a rumour that the girl's mother somehow found a way to hide them all, that perhaps she was not as blind to Faery as she first appeared. Ironically, it was the human's music that gave them away again, when the father of the girl began composing again. Six years after they fled from the courts, Queen Titania discovered the location of the child's family, and was determined to take her revenge. She could not kill the girl and risk Oberon's wrath, nor did she dare strike at the mother, the human who caught the eye of the Summer King. But the girl's mortal father had no such protection."

"So, Titania took my dad?" Meghan interrupts again, making Leanansidhe glower at her. "But, that doesn't make sense! How'd he end up with you?"

"I was just getting to the climax, darling," Leanansidhe sighs, blowing out a blue panther that bounds over Meghan's head. The sooner we get out of here, the better. I'm not sure I trust Leanansidhe to protect us here, not after this. "You're probably a horror to take to the movies, aren't you?"

"No more stories," Meghan says, standing up. "Please, just tell me. Did Titania steal my father or not?"

"No, darling. I stole your father."

"You did! Why? Just so Titania couldn't?"

"Exactly, dove. I'm not particularly fond of the Summer bitch, pardon my French, since the jealous shrew was responsible for my exile. And you should be grateful it was I instead of Titania who took your father. He doesn't have a bad life, here. The Summer Queen probably would have turned him into a toad or rosebush or something similar." Leanansidhe says, with a smug grin.

"How did you even know about it? Why did you get involved?"

"Ask Puck," Leanansidhe said, waving her cigarette flute toward the end of the couch. "He was your appointed guardian at the time. He was the one who told me all about it." Again, we turn to face Puck, who is now studiously staring at the wall.

"Puck? You told her about my dad?" To his credit, the wince that comes from him is genuine. I'm actually pretty intrigued to see how this plays out – I don't think I've ever seen Meghan so upset before and I have no idea how she's going to deal with this.

"You don't understand, princess. When I got wind of Titania's plans, I had to do something. Oberon didn't care, he wouldn't have sent any help. Lea was the only one I could ask." He shrugs weakly at her. "I can't take on the Queen of the Seelie Court, princess. That would be suicide, even for me." I almost snort at that because, despite it being suicide to cross a Queen, it doesn't usually stop him for long. The glamour pouring off Meghan takes on a vibrant red hue and I watch her cautiously, knowing the explosion that is about to happen is going to be pretty spectacular.

"Why didn't you tell me!" She yells, making both Puck and I flinch. It's now official, I have never seen Meghan this mad before and I don't think Goodfellow has either. Despite everything I know about Meghan, she makes a formidable picture right now. "All that time, all those years, of knowing, and you never said anything! How could you? You were supposed to be my friend!"

"Princess—" Puck says gently but Meghan doesn't let him finish. One large ebb of red glamour is all the warning we get before Meghan slaps Puck hard across the face, knocking him off the armrest of the chair he's perched on. For a moment, we both just stare at her in shock as she stands over him, visibly shaking with tears "You took my dad from me" It was you all along!" She screams, knocking some sense into my head. I quickly cross the room and wrap my arms around her, stopping her from hitting Goodfellow again and reminding her that I'm still here. For a moment, I think she's going to push me away and go at him again anyway but she turns in my arms and buries her face in my chest, gasping for air as she cries. My arms tighten around her as I glare at Goodfellow. While I'm preventing Meghan from hitting him again, it doesn't mean that I won't make him pay for hurting her like this at some point. He stares at me sadly for a moment before walking out of the door. In all the years I've known Robin Goodfellow, I can honestly say I don't think I've ever seen him so heartbroken. Not even after Ariella died. After a few minutes, Meghan steps back, wiping the few remaining tears off her face as she does.

"So, darling," Leanansidhe says from her position on the sofa. I'm surprised she's just sat and watched that play out in front of her. Although, from what I know of Leanansidhe, she probably loved the drama. "What will you do, now?" Meghan takes a deep breath, steadying herself before she turns back to face Leanansidhe.

"I want you to let my dad go. He doesn't belong here, with you. Let me take him back to the real world."

"Darling, you know your mother will likely freak out if you show up one night with her long-lost husband. Do you think she will just take him back and things will go back to normal? It doesn't work that way, dove. You will likely tear your little human family apart."

"I know. I don't plan to take him home. Mom…Mom has Luke and Ethan now. I know…we can't be that family again, ever." I wonder what it would be like to have had a family like that, to have a family that is waiting for you to come home. One that you would happily stay with for the rest of your life. One you would mourn the loss of. I've never really thought about what it must have been like for Meghan to lose her father at a young age. She's mourned someone she's thought to be dead for eleven years and, now that she's found them alive, she can't take them home, because everyone else has moved on.

"Then what do you want with him, dove?" Leanasidhe asks, taking another puff of her cigarette.

"I want him to be normal, just to have a normal life again!" She throws her hands up and I take a step forward, placing a hand on her back to reassure her that she's not alone in this. "I don't want him to be crazy! I don't want him to wander around here forever, not knowing who he is or anything about his past. I…I want to talk to him, like a regular person, and see if he remembers me. I want him to move on. And…he won't be able to do that here, not aging, not remembering anything of who he is. You have to let him go."

"Do I, now?" Leanansidhe smiles humorously, a dangerous edge to her voice that puts me on edge. "And just how do you expect to convince me, darling? I'm rather loathe to give up any of my pets, relative of yours or not. So, my dove, what do you have to offer for your father's freedom?" Before Meghan can promise her first born child, or whatever else the Exile Queen wants, I cup her elbow with my hand, drawing her attention to me. I press the mate of the ring that we took from the cemetery into her hand with a small smile at her bewildered expression.

"Remember when the oracle asked if you had the ring's mate?" I whisper. "At least one of us was thinking ahead." I knew having a Token would come in use again at some point in our adventures, though I didn't expect we'd have to trade it over to the Exile Queen herself.

"Well, darling?" Leanansidhe calls from where she's still reclined on the sofa. "What are you two whispering about? Does it have anything to do with what you're going to trade for your father?" The smile Meghan gives me before turning around to face Leanansidhe once more makes it all worth it. This means more to her than anything and I can't deny her the chance to get her father back after all these years. If someone had offered me the chance to reclaim Ariella, I'd have done in a heartbeat before I met Meghan.

"Yes," Meghan murmurs, holding the Token out so that the tarnished ring that is glowing blue and green gleams under the lights. The sight of it makes Leanansidhe sit upright in her chair. "I can give you this."

"A Token, darling?" She asks, leaning back in her chair as she pretends that the ring hasn't completely captured her attention. "That might be sufficient. For now, anyway. I suppose I can trade your father for that." Meghan sighs with relief, but it's now my turn to barter with Leanansidhe. I step forward and close my hand around the ring, stopping Meghan from handing it over.

"That's not enough," I tell Leanansidhe."You know the Iron fey are looking for Meghan. We can't just wander around the mortal world without a plan. We need a place that will be secure from the false king's minions."

Meghan is too caught up in reclaiming her father that she's forgotten about the fact that the mortal world is no longer safe for us to just wander around aimlessly. Luckily, Token's are incredibly powerful objects and this ring may just be able to secure us somewhere safe to stay, at least for a little while.

"Ash, what are you doing?" Meghan hisses at me and I turn slightly so that she can see when I mouth the words 'trust me.'

"You two are pressing the boundaries of my patience." She drums her nails on the armrest and sighs, although I know all too well that she would never let a Token slip through her fingers. "Oh, very well, darlings. I have a quaint little hideaway that I can lend you for the time being. It's out in the middle of nowhere and fairly safe—I've got a few of the local trows keeping an eye on it. Will that be good enough for you, dove?" Meghan looks at me and I nod my approval.

"All right," she says, placing the Token on the table where it continues to pulse under the lights. "You have a deal. Now, where's my dad?" Leanansidhe stands and runs her hand over the baby grand piano that is sat in the corner of the room.

"Right here, darling. After you left, I'm afraid your father became inconsolable. He kept trying to leave the manor, so I'm afraid I had to put an end to those silly notions of escape." I sigh. Of course her way of dealing with those 'silly notions' was to turn Meghan's father into a piano.

"Change him back!" Meghan cries, staring in horror at the piano.

"Oh, don't fret, darling." Leanansidhe strokes a nail over the keys and I shiver at a mournful, shivery note is released. It's almost as if Meghan's father is begging to be put out of his misery. "It's not permanent. However, you will have to take him out of the Between to change him back. The spell dictates that as long as he stays here, he remains as he is. But look at it this way, darling—at least I didn't turn him into a pipe organ. Now, "I simply insist you join me for dinner, darlings. Cook is making hippocampus soup tonight, and I'm dying to hear how you got the scepter back from Virus. And of course, your little declaration in front of Mab and Oberon and the entirety of the courts." She wrinkles her nose in our direction. "Ah, young love. It must be wonderful to be so naive."

"What about my dad?"

"Pish, darling. He's not going anywhere." Well, that is true. I put a warning hand on Meghan's arm before she can slap Leanansidhe as well. "Now, come with me, dove. Dinner first, maybe a little gossip, and then you can run off if you like. I believe Puck and Grimalkin are already in the dining hall." I keep a watchful eye on Meghan throughout dinner, knowing she's on the edge of hitting someone again. Despite what people say, Goodfellow does apparently have at least one functioning brain cell because he doesn't show up to dinner, which goes at least a little way to keeping Meghan in line. I only half listen as Leanansidhe tries to get Meghan to tell her all the details of what happened in the lead up to our exile. I don't particularly want to remember Mab exiling me, even if it did mean I could be with Meghan. Betraying my court still hurts, it goes against everything inside of me. I wouldn't change my actions, not for a second, I just try not to think of how Mab is probably thinking of me right now. I'm pulled out of my miserable thoughts by the arrival of a group of red caps, although they are like none I have ever seen before.

"Mistress!" One says as they fill into the room. Dressed in matching butler suits with pink bow ties, they look decidedly less threatening than the traditional red cap. I hide my smirk under my hand, but I know Meghan sees me laughing at the sight of them. "We delivered the piano to the cabin, like you ordered," the red cap continues, although he doesn't look too pleased at having to do something for us. "And we stocked it with supplies, like you asked. It's all ready for the brat and her pets." Meghan ignores the glares coming from the red cap, and leaps from her chair, surprising all of us. I don't think I've ever seen her move so fast.

"We really should go. My dad is there, right? I don't want him to be alone when he turns back from being a piano." As she finishes her speech, she wrinkles her nose a little, as though she's just noting the absurdity of that sentence. I wonder if she ever wishes she hadn't followed Puck into the Nevernever. If she had just taken the spell that made her forget and put up with the changeling in her home. I quickly push that thought from my mind. Meghan would never do that. She loves too deeply for that thought to even cross her mind.

"Don't worry, dove. It will take time for the glamour to wear off. But I understand if you have to go. Just remember, my door is always open if you want to come back." Leanansidhe says. "Grim, darling, you know the way, right?" Grimalkin simply yawns and stretches, eyeing Leanansidhe with unblinking eyes.

"I believe you and I still have a wager to settle," he purrs smugly. "One that you lost, if you remember."

"You are a horrid creature, Grimalkin." Leanansidhe sighs and sends a smoke hound chasing a smoke cat through the air. Grimalkin is braver than I would be, calling in a favour with her. "It seems I am destined to lose bargains today. Very well, cat, you can have your bloody favor. And may you choke on it when you try to call it in." The cat just purrs in contentment.

"This way," he says, standing up. "We will have to go back through the cellar, but the trod is not far. Just be wary when we get there—Leanansidhe failed to mention that this particular spot is infested with bogles."

"What about Goodfellow?" I ask, since Meghan apparently isn't. It's strange how our roles have seemingly reversed; with me asking about Goodfellow's whereabouts and Meghan ignoring her best friends very existence. "Should he know where we're going, or are we leaving him behind?" For a moment, I think she might turn round and tell us to wait for him after all.

"I don't care," she says quietly, glaring at the room as if Goodfellow is going to jump out from behind a dining chair. "He can follow us or not, but he'd better stay out of my way if he knows what's good for him. I don't want to see his face for a long time. Come on, Grim. Let's get out of here." I sigh as I follow them back to the cellar. I'll talk to her about Puck soon. It's not right for her to be so angry with him – she's the level headed one of the three of us after all. It's worrying that she's so willing to cut him off. That's not the Meghan I know and I love. I'll have to talk to her…soon. When she's less likely to bite my head off.

* * *

Grimalkin leads us down numerous hallways, to an old wooden door, with sunlight filtering in through the cracks. Meghan pulls it open and reveals a dense forest glen, the canopy above so dense that the sunlight falls in dapples on the grass. I follow her through the door, and close it behind me, taking it in. After the rush of the human world, it's so quiet and peaceful. I wonder if this is how Meghan felt when she first came to the Nevernever; as if she was constantly listening out for the sound of traffic.

"There are several trows watching us from the bushes," I note. "Are they going to be a problem?"

"Leanansidhe's groundskeepers," Grimalkin says absently. "Nothing to worry about. If you hear feet moving around the cabin at night, it is probably them. Or the brownies."

"What cabin? I don't see a cabin," Meghan asks, glancing around the clearing.

"Of course not. This way human," Grimalkin says, trotting across the clearing and hopping over the little stream, disappearing midjump. Meghan sighs.

"Why does he always do that?"

"I don't think it was on purpose this time," I tell her, offering her my hand. "Come on." We follow Grimalkin across the glen, jumping over the stream and through the barrier protecting the land beyond it. In front of us, stands a large, two-storey cabin, the front having been raised on stilts to give the occupants a good view of the area. The veranda around the upper deck would also offer a good vantage point. Meghan's mouth drops.

"This is her 'quaint little hideaway'?" She says. "I was thinking more along the lines of a one room cabin with an out-house or something."

"That's Leanansidhe," I reply, not quite able to hide my amusement at her statement. She knows Leanansidhe better than I and yet I knew that her 'quaint little hideaway' would most likely be the complete opposite. "She could have glamoured the outside to look like a rundown cabin instead of hiding the whole thing, but I don't think that's her style." Quietly, as if I'm hearing something from very far away, come the faint sounds of piano chords. "I hear music." I tell her, knowing exactly what that means.

"Piano music? My dad!" She says. I can't help but smile at her excitement, and let her pull me forward, taking the stairs two at a time in her haste to see her dad once more. She doesn't stop until we enter the living room. Sat at the piano is a skinny man, hunched over the keys protectively, like he expects someone to rip him away from the instrument at any moment. I'm not entirely sure how he can even see what he's playing because his hair has fallen into his eyes. It doesn't seem to bother him though as he pounds furiously at the keys. Behind me, stretched out on the couch, with his hands behind his head, is Goodfellow. Of course, he'd be here. As if he hasn't caused enough problems today as it is. He smirks at Meghan, but she steadfastly ignores him, instead hurrying over to the piano bench. She doesn't notice the flinch that courses through Puck at her dismissal. Or the way the smirk that has always seemed permanently etched onto his face drops. What annoys me even more than the fact that I notice all of this, is the fact that I feel sorry for him. After all these years of fighting and harsh words and glares across throne rooms, I feel sorry for him. I know he loves Meghan and I know that she loves him, though in what way I'm not entirely sure of, even now. Even so, the idea that _Meghan_ , of all people, can't stand to look at him, must be killing him. I know it would be killing me if I was on the receiving end of one of her cold faced glares.

I return my focus to Meghan, rather than concentrating of the mess Goodfellow has made of his life. She's given up trying to get her dad's attention and is slumped in one of the arm chairs, staring at him with tears in her eyes. Forget Robin Goodfellow, seeing Meghan on the verge of tears breaks my heart. It's not fair. She didn't ask to get caught up in any of this, and even this moment, this reunion with her father (which shouldn't be happening in the first place if Titania had just stayed away) has been taken from her too.

"What's wrong with him?" She whispers. I must admit, he does look particularly sorry for himself.

"Remember, human, he has been in Faery for a very long time. Also, until just recently, he was a musical instrument, which was probably fairly traumatic. It is to be expected that his mind is a little fractured. Give him time, and he should come out of it eventually." Grimalkin says, curling up on the arm next to her.

"Should?" She asks, but Grimalkin has moved on to the decidedly more important task of washing his back. I roll my eyes. Meghan hides her face in her hands, as if doing so will change what's happened. Before I can move to comfort her though, she regains her composure and removes her hands to glare at Puck.

"What are you doing here?" She asks, her voice void of all emotion. Wow. Instead of backing down like a normal person would, Goodfellow just grins at her, not looking the least bit sorry that he's showed up here after what he's done.

"Me? I'm on vacation, princess."

"Go away," she says, standing. "Go back to Oberon and leave us alone. You've done enough damage."

"He cannot go back to Oberon," Grimalkin says, as he leaps to the back of the couch. "Oberon exiled him when he came after you. He disobeyed the king's orders and has been banished from the Nevernever." I know without being able to see her face, that Meghan feels guilty about that. She never wanted me to be exiled, despite it giving us the freedom to be together. Knowing that Puck has got himself exiled as well will eat at her conscious.

"That was stupid," she tells him, although there isn't quite as much anger as there was a moment ago. "Why would you get yourself banished like that? Now you're stuck here with the rest of us."

"Oh, I don't know, princess. Maybe it was because I was stupid enough to care about you. Maybe I actually thought I had a chance. Silly me, thinking that one little kiss meant anything to you." I freeze, staring at Meghan in disbelief. She wouldn't have. Would she?

"You kissed him?" I ask her, watching her cringe. That's all the answer I need.

"We're not talking about that right now," she says, before Puck interrupts.

"Oh, I think we should," he says, raising his voice. "So, tell me, princess, when you said you loved me, was that a lie?" My body just stops. She told him she loved him? I thought that Puck was simply selling a story to make me jealous after the fight at Meghan's home. But what if he wasn't? I never asked her exactly what happened, I just assumed that it was a story on Puck's behalf.

"No," she says, having to shout over the banging of the piano behind us. "I didn't lie to you, Puck. I meant what I said—at least, I did back then. But it's not the same as what I feel for Ash, you knew that." I let out a little sigh at that. She does love me, she does. That one sentence helps to force my thoughts back into focus. I can't hold it against her. I was the one who left her after all. I suppose I just never thought Puck would succeed in his endeavours. That doesn't mean that I'm not still hurt or upset, but I can't be mad at her. Goodfellow is a different story. I can definitely be mad at him over this.

"Did I?" Puck asks. "Maybe I did, but you sure led me on a merry chase, princess. Just like a pro. When were you going to tell me I didn't have a cold chance in hell?"

"I don't know!" Meghan snaps, stepping forward. I'm aware that this is entering dangerous territory, but I can't quite bring myself to care. Meghan can put up a good fight when she's not mad, if I were Goodfellow, I'd be careful about my next words to her. "When were you going to tell me about my father, Puck? When were you going to tell me you knew where he was all along?"

"You know, I think I will get out of here," he drawls, standing from the couch. "It's gotten crowded of late, and I was just thinking I needed a vacation." Glancing at me, he smirks. He knows that his words have hit their mark and that he's shaken my relationship with Meghan. "Not enough room in this cabin for both of us, ice-boy. You ever want that duel, you can find me in the woods. And if either one of you comes up with an actual plan, do me a favour and leave me out of it. I'm outta here." He stalks out without looking back. Meghan turns to face her father, sitting carefully beside him on the piano stool.

"Dad," she says quietly. "You need to stop now. Just for a little while, okay? Will you stop?" She pries his hands away from the keys and the cabin falls in to silence. But it's tense and uncomfortable because neither of us want to acknowledge the words that Puck dropped earlier. I think I preferred the din of the piano. I take a breath to prepare myself before going to stand behind her. The idea of her kissing Puck. Of my leaving hurting her so badly that she would think that I didn't care, or that I didn't love her.

"The master bedroom is down the hall," I tell her quietly. "I think your father will be comfortable there, if you can get him to follow you." She nods, and coaxes her father to his feet and together we lead him down the hall to the bedroom. I watch as she gets her dad settled before shutting the door and leans against it. As soon as the door closes, the wall that she has built to keep the tears at bay breaks, and she shakes as she cries. I want to pull her close to me, to wrap her in my arms and tell her that she's going to be okay. That we're going to be okay. But I can't, because I don't know if we will. I don't want to doubt Meghan, but I can't deny that Puck's words have planted a seed of doubt in my mind. Still, I can't just stand here and watch her cry.

"Come on," I tell her, brushing her arm. "There's nothing you can do for him now. You're exhausted, and you can't help anyone like this. Get some rest." She lets me lead her upstairs to the loft where there's another bedroom. I drag a hideous bear rug off the queen sized bed and motion for Meghan to get in. Worry squeezes my heart as I watch her climb into the bed. She hasn't said a word and I don't know if it's just because she's exhausted or because of the argument earlier. I stand over her, wanting to lie next to her, but I'm not sure if that's what she wants. So instead I say, "I'll be downstairs. Try to get some sleep." I start to pull away, but, as she so often does, Meghan surprises me. She grabs hold of my hand, stopping me from leaving.

"Ash, wait." She says, and I immediately still. "I can't be alone right now," she whispers. "Please, just stay with me for a little while. You don't have to say anything, we don't have to talk. Just…stay. Please." I want to. I want to more than anything. I'm about to refuse, to tell her that it's not a good idea. But, as I stare at her, at her tear-stained cheeks and the despair in her eyes as she looks at me, like she thinks I hate her, I can't do it. I can't tell her no. So, instead, I nod, taking some small pleasure in the relief that shines in her eyes. I slide into bed next to her and rest against the headboard. She curls up next to me and for a moment, just a moment, I can't help but imagine if she did this with Puck. Curled up next to him as she was falling asleep.

"You're…jealous," she says, sounding surprised. Of course she'd notice. The one time I wish her human ignorance at reading glamour would play in my favour.

"Is that so wrong?" I ask softly, turning to stare at the far wall like a coward. "Is it so wrong to be jealous, when I heard that you kissed him, when you told him…" I trail off, raking a hand through my hair as I curse myself. I didn't want to do this tonight. Not when we're both exhausted. "I know I was the one who left. I said we were enemies and that we couldn't be together. I knew it would break your heart, but…I also knew Puck would be there to pick up the pieces. Whatever came of that, I brought on myself. I know I have no right to ask…" I stop again, pausing before I continue. And for this, I have to look at her. I have to know for sure, one way or another, and staring at the wall is not going to help with that. "But, I have to know, Meghan. I can't wonder about this, not with him. Or you. It will drive me crazy." I sigh, suddenly tired of it all. Of being unsure and of not touching her because I don't know if she wants me to anymore. So, before I can second guess myself, I take her hand and thread my fingers through hers. "You know what I feel for you. You know I'll protect you from whatever comes at us, but this is the one thing I can't fight."

"Ash—"

"If you're torn about whether you want to be with Goodfellow, tell me now. I'll step down, give you space, whatever you want me to do." My heart thumps as I turn to look at her. "Just answer me this today, and I'll never ask you again. Do you love him?" I watch her carefully; watch her take a deep breath and ready herself for her answer and I tense in anticipation.

"I did. At least, I thought I did. I'm not so sure now." I pauses for a moment. "When you left, I was hurt. I thought I wouldn't see you again. You told me we were enemies, that we couldn't be together, and I believed you. I was angry and confused, and Puck was there to pick up the pieces, like you said. It was easy to turn to Puck because I knew how he felt. And, for a little while, I thought I might…love him, too. "But, when I saw you again, I realized what I felt for Puck wasn't the same. He was my best friend, and I'd always have a spot for him in my heart, but…it was you, Ash. I didn't really have a choice. It's always been you." I don't say anything – I can't. I can't do anything except sigh in relief and draw her even close to me. I smile softly when she rests her head on my chest and I gently trace my fingers up and down her back. We lie there in silence for a little while; so long that I think she's fallen asleep.

"Talk to me," she whispers, her hand starting to trace circles on my chest, making me shiver. "Please. The silence is driving me crazy. I don't want to hear myself think right now."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything. Tell me a story. Tell me about the places you've been. Anything to keep my mind off…everything." A story? The only stories I can think of, involve death and war and destruction. Not the kind of thing I want to tell her before she falls asleep, no matter how distracting it might be. Instead, I pick through my memories searching for something that doesn't focus quite as much on bloodshed and finally, come up with a song that one of the nursemaids that tended to me as a child used to sing. I don't remember the words, but I do remember the melody and so, I begin to hum it, ignoring how stupid I feel doing it. Beneath me, Meghan relaxes and her breathing starts to even out.

"Ash?" She whispers, and I smile at her stubbornness. The lullaby is made to put you to sleep – only Meghan would be stubborn enough to fight against it.

"Yes?"

"Don't leave me, all right?"

"I already promised that I would stay." I remind her, stroking her hair, watching it slip through my fingers. "For as long as you want me."

"Ash?"

"Mmm?" I say, barely containing my amusement.

"…I love you." I pause, letting the strands of hair fall back into place at her words. I want to tell her that I love her too. More than anything. But having my words used against me for so long means that I can't. So instead I tell her,

"I know. Get some sleep. I'll be right here." This time, she does fall asleep and I press a gentle kiss to the top of her head as I rest my head against the headboard. I still have her. She loves me, she chose me and I still have her. We still have her father to worry about; and I'm sure Goodfellow isn't all that far away, despite what he said earlier but, for right now, I have everything I need right here in my arms. And she's not leaving me. With that thought firmly lodged in my mind, I close my eyes, and let myself drift off as well.

* * *

 **So, I think this has been the most requested chapter of them all and I hope I've done it justice. I've never thought that Ash would have been mad at Meghan. Hurt, yes, but I think that he would immediately know that it was kind of his fault because he told her that they couldn't be together. I just think he's jealous and there's a seed of doubt that has been planted. I do love this scene and I hope you all like it. Review and let me know guys xx**


	17. Rude Interruptions

**Rude Interruptions**

"Tomorrow, then," I say, pulling back from her reluctantly. "Same time. Now, let's go put something on those welts." Once again, the sound of piano music drifts down from the cabin as we cross the stream and I spare a look at Meghan as she lifts her head in recognition. I know it's hurting her to have her father so close and yet still so far away. He doesn't look up from the piano when we walk in, and I watch as Meghan takes a deep breath before tentatively asking,

"Dad?" My heart constricts at the hurt look that passes her face when Paul doesn't even look up from the keys; although the music does falter for a moment. "I guess that's a start," she sighs and the ache to just wrap her in my arms intensifies. Instead, I leave Meghan alone with her father for a moment while I go and hunt down a salve from the brownies in the kitchen. I can't look at the red welts that I've caused her any longer; no matter how necessary they might have been. When I get back, I can easily see through the calm look that Meghan is trying to project outwards. I stay silent as I lead her to the loft and get her to sit on the bed. I kneel behind her and undo the lid, my muscles relaxing at the familiar smell of the herbal salve, distracting me for a moment as I gently tug Meghan's sleeve off her shoulder, displaying yet another thin red line on her skin. I wish there was another way of teaching her, of protecting her. But this is all I know, the only way I know to make her understand how important it is to take this seriously. In front of me, I catch a wave of annoyance coming off of Meghan as the music below us turns melancholy.

"I'm still mad at you, you know," she says, though I know it's not me she's mad at, it's herself. "A little warning would've been nice. You couldn't have said, 'Hey, as part of your training today, I'm going to beat you senseless'?" I reach round her, putting the jar of salve into her hands before pulling her back to my chest, like I've been wanting to do all day.

"Your father will be fine," I murmur, as my body relaxing even more just by having her in my arms. "It just takes a while for the mind to catch up on everything it has forgotten. Right now, he's confused and frightened, and taking solace in the one thing that's familiar. Just keep talking to him, and eventually he'll start to remember." Meghan leans back properly against my chest and, after a moment of just sitting there, she lifts her head and presses a soft kiss at the hollow of my neck. The gesture, even now startles me, and I draw in a breath. It's been so long since I've had anyone in my life like this. Someone I want to spend every second of the day with, someone that I don't ever want to be away from. Of course, it doesn't take long for me to take in the silence of the house. I'm not used to being somewhere where I can truly relax, where there isn't someone constantly vying for my attention, or my worry that I've been in the Wyldwood too long takes over. My heart starts to beat faster at the thought that, for right now, we are alone. In front of me, Meghan's heart jumps to match mine, and I know that she's followed my thought process. Meghan moves to press another kiss to my jaw, but this time at least, I'm more prepared. I duck my head out of the way so that I can kiss her properly. I move my hand up to cup her cheek and then up to tangle in her hair. I'm content to just stay like this, but then Meghan's hands slide under my shirt and she starts running her fingers up and down my chest, making me groan. I pull her onto my lap and lower her down on to the bed. No longer content with simply kissing, I want more. I want more of the beautiful girl beneath me; the girl that I have fought to have here with me right now. I pull back slightly, before I completely forget what I want to tell her. What I need to make sure she knows.

"You are beautiful, you know that, right?" I ask her, slightly breathless as I look down at her. "I know I don't say…things like that…as often as I should. I thought I should let you know." She blushes a little at my words.

"You don't have to say anything," she says quietly, as she closes her eyes. "I can feel you," she says after a moment. "I can almost feel your thoughts. Is that very strange?" It's happening then. She's beginning to pick up on my emotions just like I'm able to pick up on hers. It's a strange thing to be able to do, it makes me feel…vulnerable. It's been a long, long time since anyone has been able to read my emotions.

"No," I tell her, though my voice comes out sounding strangled. I suppose it's because my thoughts are filled with more emotion than I've let myself feel for a while. As vulnerable as I feel, I also feel…whole again. When I lost Ariella, I lost a part of myself, I became cold and closed off which, in Tir Na Nog probably helped me to survive, but I almost forgot what it feels like to love and to be loved. It is the most terrifying thing in the world but, looking down at Meghan and seeing her looking back at me with nothing but love and concern, I realise just how lonely my life has been since Ariella died.

"What's wrong?" Meghan asks. I shake my head at her.

"Nothing. Just…I never thought…I could feel like this again. I didn't know if it was possible." I pause for a moment, frustrated with myself. "I'm sorry, I'm not explaining it very well." And she needs to know. She needs to know that there is nowhere else I would rather be right now. That I don't regret anything that has led to this moment. She laces her hands behind my head, her fingers running through my hair and smiles at me.

"It's alright. Right now, talking isn't what I was hoping for." I smile at her, relishing how relaxed we both are. I don't think I've ever seen Meghan like this before, and I'm going to make the most of it. I lean down to kiss her once more, when I hear the rustle of clothes behind me, making me stop tantalisingly close to my goal. Meghan frowns and leans her head back to see what's made me stop and lets out a squeak that, at any other time, would have made me chuckle. As it stands though, I don't make a sound. Behind us, Paul stands, watching and beneath me, Meghan blushes. I roll off her immediately, my stomach dropping. It hasn't ever crossed my mind before, to care about someone's parents. In Tir Na Nog, it's every person for themselves and if you want something, then you simply take it. Now though, watching Meghan and Paul I realise that, I want him to approve. It seems like a strangely old fashioned, human concept, but I want it. I want Meghan's father to approve of me being with his daughter. To trust me to look after her and to protect her. Having my way with her in the loft is not the way to get that approval.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Meghan asks, smoothing down her rumpled clothes. "Why aren't you downstairs with the piano?" I can see the disgruntlement radiating off of her and I almost smile. It seems that, despite her initial embarrassment, she's more bothered about being interrupted than I am. Paul doesn't reply and Meghan sighs before shooting me an apologetic look. Not that she needs to, I'm quite glad that Paul interrupted us. If we're going to do…that, then I want to do it right. I don't want her worrying about me or her father or Puck. I want it to be perfect and, despite how perfect it felt a moment ago, I know I would have regretted carrying on if we hadn't been interrupted.

"Come on, Dad. Let's go look for a certain cat I'm going to kill for not warning us." She says, as she starts to lead Paul back down the stairs.

"Why?" Paul says suddenly. "Why am I…here? Who…who are you?" My stomach clenches at the broken look on Paul's face; the same look I know Meghan is trying to conceal from me and her father.

"I'm your daughter," she says, and I know that she's tired of explaining this to a man who should know who she is. "You were married to my mom, Melissa Chase. I'm Meghan. The last time you saw me, I was six years old, remember?" It's the same speech she's given him every day since we got here. Up until now, it hasn't worked out very well.

"Daughter?" Paul says, hesitantly. I watch silently from the corner of the room, but I can't stop myself from hoping that this is it; that this is the turning point for both of them, and I know that Meghan does too. But then he shakes his head sadly. "I don't…remember." He takes a step back towards the stairs, his eyes taking on the cloudy look that is so familiar.

"Dad-" Meghan starts, taking a step after him.

"Don't remember!" Paul shouts and Meghan stops immediately at the look on her father's face. Any lucidity that he had a moment ago has gone like it had never been there. "Don't remember! The rats scream, but I don't remember! Go away, go away." He races back down the stairs to the piano, where he starts pounding heavily on the keys. As soon as he leaves, I walk over to her, wrapping my arms round her tightly.

"It's a start," I tell her softly. It's an awful statement that does nothing to ease her pain, but it's all I have. "At least he's talking now. He'll remember eventually." I kiss her neck, just a light brush but she still shivers slightly.

"Sorry about that," she whispers after a moment and I know without asking that she's talking about earlier. "I'm sure that's never happened to you before." I snort at the comment. If she thinks I've never been interrupted, then she obviously wasn't in Tir Na Nog for long enough. Honestly, it doesn't matter where you go, it's inevitable that someone will find you at the most…inopportune moment. She reaches her hands back to link around my neck, her fingers running through my hair again. I wonder if she knows how close I am to trying to reclaim the moment we lost earlier, despite my earlier thoughts about wanting to make it special for Meghan and for wanting to get Paul's approval in some way. "What are you thinking about?" She asks.

"That this has put things in perspective," I say with a sigh as we listen to the crashing piano notes below us. "That there are more important things to think about. We should be concentrating on your training, and what we're going to do about the false king once it's time. He's still out there, looking for you." Meghan pouts at me and I chuckle at her. "We have time Meghan." I tell her softly, smiling at the words that at one point, I thought I'd never get to say to her. "After this is over, after your father regains his memories, after we deal with the false king, we'll have the rest of our lives. I'm not going anywhere, I promise." I tighten my arms round her waist and brush a soft kiss against her ear, smiling as she shivers again. "I'll wait. Just tell me when you're ready." I release her then, offering her a small smile before I head downstairs, before I take back what I've just told her and lay her back down on the bed. I head out onto the veranda, hanging my head as a soft breeze brushes the grass in the clearing. Knowing that Meghan is still upstairs and that Paul is distracted is not helping my will power. I thought being alone would help but, with the dark soundtrack playing behind me, my thoughts wander back to those precious, stolen moments earlier, when all the problems still facing us disappeared for a little while. I want nothing more than for that to happen again but, because I'm trying to be noble, I'm going to have to wait a while longer. I let out a groan as Paul continues to bang on the piano.

* * *

 **I hope I did this scene justice - I'm not very good at writing this kind of stuff! Although I do love the idea of Ash trying to be noble and do right by Meghan. And wanting Paul's approval - I love the idea that he wants Meghan's dad to trust him to look after his duaghter. I don't know why but I can totally see him doing this - what do you think? To the guest reviewer who wanted to see Ash teaching Meghan to fight, I don't think I'm going to do that scene, again because I want to do these books and characters justice and I don't think I will in that scene. I hope that's okay! Let me know what you think guys xxx**


	18. Past Sins

**Past Sins**

I will never, ever admit it to him, but I'm beginning to see why Goodfellow enjoys turning into a bird. Ignoring the fact that I'm being flown around on a metal glider that even with the amulet is uncomfortable, being up here does give you an advantage and, since we're willingly going to meet my brother, I want all the advantages I can get before he shows up. Circling above the place we're to meet Rowan, I scan the surrounding area. The trees below us are, incredibly, still alive although they won't be for much longer. Even from up here I can see the streaks of metal running the length of the trunks. As far as I can tell, we're alone, but there are plenty of places for my brother to be waiting where I can't see him.

We land just outside of the clearing, leaving the gliders alone before heading back to where we're supposed to meet Rowan. I draw my sword and both Meghan and Puck follow my lead. We've been burned too many times by Rowan to not go in prepared for a blood bath. As soon as we step into the clearing, Rowan appears from the other side, flanked by two knights, the insignia of the Iron King emblazoned on the chest of their armour. One of the knights I recognise from my time with the last Iron King. He was one of the guards that dragged me out from under the rubble to see the Iron King. Although, by the look of it, he either doesn't remember me or simply doesn't care. The sight of the second knight still makes my gut clench. It's like looking a mirror. Tertius. My double in every way, apart from the scar running down his face. Even knowing that I don't have that scar myself, I have to fight my immediate instinct to check, to make sure that we are different people.

"Whoa, I'm seeing double," Puck mutters, and I remember that Puck has never had the pleasure of meeting my double. "Long-lost brother of yours, ice-boy? Were you separated at birth or something?"

"That's Tertius," Meghan whispers to him as we continue forward, despite everything inside of me is demanding that I grab Meghan and leave right now, before my brother can even open his mouth. Instead, I concentrate on her explanation. "He was with Ironhorse the first time we went into the Iron Realm. I saw him again at the Winter Palace, when he stole the Scepter of the Seasons and killed Sage." I can't help clenching my fists at the memory of that. Of seeing Sage lying in the throne room, killed by someone who looked like his youngest brother. The thought of him thinking that I would do that, would kill the brother that defied Mab time and again for me when I was younger and didn't know the ways of the court yet, makes the air around us drop ten degrees. "Don't underestimate him. He might look like Ash, but he's an Iron knight through and through."

"Yeah, but…" Puck looks from Tertius to me and back again almost like he's watching a tennis match. "That doesn't tell me why he looks like ice-boy's clone."

"Because," Rowan says, his voice carrying effortlessly through the clearing. Of course he's been listening in to every word we've said. "He is a clone of my dear little brother. The former king, Machina, created his knights to be his elite guard, so he fashioned them in the images of those at court. You should have seen my double—ugly bastard. I did him a favour and put him out of his misery. Sage's twin, unfortunately, was gone before we could ever meet." He stops a few yards away and has the audacity to bow, as if he were greeting distinguished members of court. Another game to try and get us on uneven footing. His guard dogs eye us warily from where they stand, one on either side of Rowan. "Hello, again, princess. I'm very glad you could make it. And with your two lapdogs in tow, as well. I'm impressed. That must have taken some serious magic." He spares a glance at me, his gaze hovering over the amulet and smiles at the sight of it. "That's a lovely necklace, little brother, but it won't save you in the end. The only way to survive the Iron Realm is to become part of it. You're only buying yourself some time with that bauble. Once it breaks, as I'm sure it will, this realm will swallow you whole."

"It will buy me enough time to kill you," I reply, my voice calm despite the desire to put my brother out his misery raging under my skin. "Which I'm happy to do right now, if you like."

"Now, now, none of that." Rowan says, wagging a finger in my direction as if I'm a naughty child. "I come here to offer a proposal that could potentially end this war. Don't you want to stop the war, Meghan Chase?" Meghan crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at Rowan.

"That's why you brought me here? So you can bargain for the false king?"

"Of course," Rowan replies smoothly. "But first, I'll need an agreement from you, princess. One that says we agree not to kill each other while standing on neutral ground. We wouldn't want my dear little brother to forget himself and attack, now would we?" I only just manage to not roll my eyes at that statement. I might be the youngest brother, but I do have some degree of self-control; I've had to, in order to put up with him all these years.

"I'm more worried about you double-crossing us and having an ambush waiting right outside. Why should I trust you?" Meghan says.

"You wound me, princess." Rowan says, putting a hand over his heart dramatically. "I can assure you, all we want to do is talk, but if you're not interested in hearing our proposal, I guess we'll leave with our tails between our legs and continue our march on the Nevernever."

"Oh fine," Meghan says, giving in. She pauses for a moment to consider her next move. I wish I could do this for her, negotiate with Rowan for the information. But he won't talk to me, not when Meghan is the one that the King truly wants. All I can do is hope that she knows enough to keep herself alive for a little while. And her next words fill me with pride. "We'll agree to a truce if your side honors it, as well. As long as we stand on neutral ground—" she gestures to the clearing we stand in "-neither side will attack the other. Agreed?"

"Agreed. There now, that wasn't so bad, was it? And you're going to want to hear this, princess. In fact, I think you'll find this deal very interesting." Rowan says, his trademark smug grin plastered on his face. He leans back and watches us, taking his time and drawing things out. He knows that he has the upper hand – he can afford to spend all day here if he wants. We can't. But, without hearing what the King wants from Meghan, we'll be at an even bigger disadvantage than we already are. "Your side is done, princess," he says. "We all know that you can't win—the Iron King's army is far greater than either Summer's or Winter's, and his fortress is impenetrable. In a few days, Faery will be consumed by the Iron Realm, unless Meghan Chase steps up to save it."

"Get to the point of Rowan." Meghan says, her patience with him clearly wearing thin. I try to get her to look at me, to tell her to keep calm because the moment he knows that he's getting under your skin, is the moment he will keep going, keep throwing jabs at you until you explode. Rowan simply continues to grin at her.

"The Iron King is prepared to stop his advance on the Nevernever, call back all his forces, and halt his fortress where it stands today, if you agree to his proposal."

"Which is?"

"To marry him." I freeze, and it's only through many years of playing games and wearing a mask of indifference at the Winter Court that my face doesn't match Meghan's look of absolute horror. "Join your power to his. Wed Summer to Iron, and the Iron King will cease his war on the Nevernever for as long as you remain his bride. That way, no one else gets hurt, no one else dies, and most important, the Nevernever as you know it will survive. But you must agree to become his queen, or he will hit the courts of Summer and Winter with everything at his disposal. And he will destroy them."

That's his deal? Marriage?" Meghan asks shakily. "What is it with all these Iron Kings wanting to marry me?" I watch Puck shoot her a questioning look, but Meghan doesn't notice and it will have to wait for another time.

"Not a bad offer, if you ask me," Rowan continues. "Become a queen, save the world… Of course, you would be married in name only—the Iron King has no interest in your…erm…body, just your power. I'm sure he would even let you keep your pet lapdogs, if you want. Think of all the lives you would save, just by saying yes." She can't agree to this. She can't possibly think this is a good idea. She turns to look at me and I can see it. I can see the hesitation in her face and my stomach drops. She's considering it. She's actually thinking about agreeing to this. I know that my icy mask of indifference has shattered and I don't even care. All I can think about is the possibility of Meghan agreeing to doing this – of sacrificing herself to my sadistic brother and his King. "Meghan, no." I say, hoping and wishing on anything I can think of that she'll listen to me. "You don't have to do this."

"Of course, she doesn't have to," Rowan says. "She can simply refuse, and the Iron King will march into the Nevernever and destroy everything. But, maybe she doesn't care about saving Faery, after all. Maybe all those lost lives have no meaning to her. If that's the case, then please, carry on and forget this conversation ever happened." Meghan closes her eyes for a moment, before opening them again and looking at me. The determined set of her jaw tips me off on her decision and I step forward, gripping her arm as if that will change her mind. As if it will keep her here, with me.

"Meghan…don't. Please." I don't know what else to do. What I can do to convince her not to go through with this. I've fought so hard to keep her with me and now Rowan is screwing everything up. He was enthralled with Ariella and wanted her for himself and now he's trying again with Meghan. And it's working. I can see the fear in her eyes and my heart breaks. She shouldn't have to sacrifice herself for us, not again. But I don't know how I can convince her of that. Behind us, Rowan laughs.

"Ooh, yes, beg her again, little brother. Beg her not to save Faery—let her see you for what you really are, a soulless creature consumed with your own selfish desires, uncaring of anything but what you consider yours. Make sure you tell her how much you love her, enough to destroy your entire court and everything in it." He's right. I am selfish. I want her safe and happy and she will be neither of those things if she goes through with this. The idea of Meghan turning into Mab – a cold, uncaring person who finds pleasure in the torture of others flickers across my mind and makes my skin go cold. I'm her knight. I can't – I won't – let her become that. Not her.

"Hey, corpse-breath, why don't you do everyone a favour and sew your lips shut?" Puck drawls. "It'll match the rest of your face and be an improvement. Don't listen to him, princess," he continues, turning to face me and Meghan. I can see his fear too, though it's better hidden than mine. He doesn't want Meghan to go through with this either. "These kinds of marriage proposals always have some hidden agenda or loophole." His words spark something in Meghan, although I don't know what. She gently frees herself from my grasp and turns to face Rowan again.

"Let's hear that proposal again," she says. "From the beginning. Just his offer, word for word." Rowan just rolls his eyes.

"Do I look like a parrot?" I throw a gentle hit against Goodfellows arm; a silent warning to stay silent at that. I don't need to look at him to know he's rolled his eyes at me. "Fine, princess, but I grow impatient, and so does the king. Last time, so do your best to follow, yes? The Iron King wishes you to become his queen. Wed Summer to Iron, and he will cease his war with the Nevernever for as long as you remain his bride—"

"As long as I remain his bride," Meghan interrupts. "Till death do us part, I suppose?"

"That is the traditional wedding vow, I believe."

"So, what's to stop him from killing me as soon as I say 'I do'?" Relief rushes through me. She's not going to go through with it. Not now. She's still safe.

"Of course he would!" Puck says, nodding as it all falls into place. "If Meghan 'weds her power to his,' he won't need her anymore. She will have already given him what he wants. So, on their wedding night, off with her head." Now that the rush of fear has released its hold, I'm able to follow their words.

"He will cease his war with the Nevernever as long as she remains his bride," I say, narrowing my eyes in Rowan's direction. "Which means he'll resume his march as soon as she's dead."

"And he'll be more powerful than ever," Meghan finishes. Rowan laughs again, but it's more forced now. He knows that we're right and that we've destroyed any advantage me might have had when he walked into his clearing.

"Fascinating theory." He says. "But it doesn't change the fact that the Iron King is ready to destroy the Nevernever, and this is your only chance to stop him. What's your answer, princess?" She shoots a smile at me before firmly releasing those last few tendrils of fear that are clinging to me.

"The answer is no. I refuse. Tell the false king he doesn't have to offer a marriage proposal to get me to come to him. I'll be there soon enough, when it's time to kill him." Rowan lights up, twisting his deformed lips into a smile that screams danger.

"How very predictable," he says, as he begins to back up. "I thought you might say that, princess. That's why I've already sent forces to destroy your little rebel base. Better hurry back – they should almost be there by now." Bastard. That's all I can think. My bastard brother has struck again.

"What?" Meghan says, before echoing my sentiments. "You bastard. They weren't even a threat. You couldn't have left them alone?"

"Glitch is a traitor to the Iron King and his rebels are a blight that must be eliminated. Besides, I would have destroyed them anyway, just to see the look on your face when you realised that more people will die because of you. Of course, the longer you stay here talking, the more time you waste to warn your little friends. I would start running now, princess." I grip my sword tighter, wanting nothing more than to run it through him. He's not content to simply send his forces to kill the people that are willing to fight for us, but he has to pile more guilt on to Meghan. Those things he's said to her aren't going to have gone unnoticed and I know her. I know that she's going to take it to heart. I share a look with Puck, a silent promise, to do what we can to ease the guilt that she's going to carry for refusing this deal.

"When I come for the false King," Meghan says as we start to leave. "I'll be coming for you too. I promise you that."

"Oh, I'm looking forward to it princess," he says as we turn and race back to where we left the gliders.

* * *

We're too late.

Rowan's army has already reached the ruins by the time we arrive. The sounds of battle carry on the wind, long before we even reach the ruins themselves and, when we do, masses of people below clash together, metal hitting off of metal to create an ear-splitting cacophony of noise. In the distance, a large tank shaped like a beetle makes its way towards the base, crushing everything in its way.

"We should take out that bug first," I call over the noise as I pull up next to Meghan. "If I take care of the gunners on top, can you bring it down?" Meghan just nods.

"I think so."

"You two go on," Puck shouts, already turning his glider away from us. "I'll hold the line at the entrance, make sure nothing gets through. See ya when we win, princess!"

Meghan takes a deep breath and, not for the first time today, curse my brother for what he's done. "Ready, Ash?" I nod at her.

"Let's go." I follow Meghan into a steep dive, heading straight for the tank. My heart clenches when sparks fly from her glider's legs seconds later. I follow her gaze to see several creatures designed to look like birds; their beaks and wings sharper than any weapon I've ever seen made in the courts.

"Split up!" Meghan yells. "We're sitting ducks otherwise. I'll try to draw off their attacks." Before I can say anything to stop her, before I can turn my glider to follow hers, she's gone, and my curses are lost in the wind as I, reluctantly, turn my glider in the opposite direction. I stop and look up, spotting Meghan as she narrowly misses hitting the birds and cursing again when she makes another sharp bank and heads for where I'm waiting. She flies past and I throw out a handful of ice daggers as the birds follow. To hell with not using my glamour – I would rather let the iron eat me alive than let Meghan take these things on alone. I turn back just in time to see her fly into the ruins of the tower.

"Really Meghan?" I mutter under my breath as I follow her and the last remaining bird through the ruins. By the time I reach Meghan, all I can do is watch as she performs a death defying manoeuvre, sharply turning her glider at the last second before hitting the tree. The metal bird that's following her, wasn't so lucky. It's an impressive move, and, perhaps if I'd had warning before she did it, I wouldn't be so mad. But I didn't have a warning and my blood is rushing through my ears. I pull up sharply beside her, fear still thrumming through me.

"Why do you insist on hurling yourself into battles where I can't follow?" I ask sharply. "I can't protect you if you're constantly running away from me."

"I made the call—it was a split-second decision, and I don't need your approval, Ash! I don't need you to protect me from everything!" I can see that the second the words leave her mouth she regrets them, but it doesn't change the fact that getting daggered by Goodfellow would be less painful than hearing those words from Meghan.

"As you wish, lady," I say, slipping back into the Unseelie mask that is so familiar to me. "What would you have me do?" She shivers at the coldness in my voice, but I can't bring myself to care right now. Not when we're in the middle of a war zone. Below us, screams echo as more and more victims are left in the dirt. Meghan looks like she wants to argue the point, maybe even to apologise, but those sounds cut through and she changes her mind, wheeling round and pulling into a dive.

"This way." She says as I follow after her silently. We head back towards the tank that is still making its way across the battle ground. "We have to take that bug down, now!" She yells, her voice slipping away on the wind so I have to strain to hear her. "If I can get on top of it, I might be able to stop it!" We circle the beetle, looking for a way in. Unfortunately, this also means that the elves sat on top are able to spot us. They turn the guns round and aim them at Meghan, who banks steeply to avoid being taken out of the air. I don't think. I simply drop down on top of the beetle, unsheathing my sword and taking out as many elves as I can in one fell swoop, their bodies tumbling off the beetle as I go. This is better. Fighting is something I'm good at, it's what I know. It takes seconds to rid the top of the beetle of the elves and I slam my sword back into my sheath, meeting Meghan's eye. Daring her to say something, to tell me that I should have let her do it herself. Should have left her alone. But she doesn't say anything as she joins me on the top of the beetle. She looks around, trying to find a way of controlling the tank.

"The antennae," I say, surprising myself with how cold and lifeless my voice actually is.

"What?" She turns to look at me, and that anger rears its head once more and I gesture sharply towards the front of the beetle where two thick antennae hang over the beetle. Ropes dangle down, ending at a platform on the beetles back. "There's your saddle. Better get this thing under control before it plows straight into the tower." I can see the hurt in Meghan's eyes but I don't say anything else. I can't, not when those words are still so fresh in my mind. Watching her take control of this thing alone tears at me, but I refuse to let it take control. She takes hold of the ropes and, with a lurch sends the beetle charging into the thick of the battle. I grab hold of one of the gun stations to keep from falling off myself. The beetle changes course, trampling over the fey who don't get out of the way soon enough and the rebels that remain give a huge shout as they fall on the soldiers once more. Within moments, the soldiers have been defeated and those that are left retreat, running over the ground and disappearing on the horizon. Meghan pulls the beast to a halt and, after a moment, it's legs fall out from under it, dropping to the ground and allowing us to get off. I slide off and come up to stand next to Meghan. Under the anger and the hurt I'm incredibly proud of her. She's held her own well but, there also lies the problem. She's done it alone. Which begs the question, does she really need me?

* * *

I hate leaving her. The whole castle is buzzing with movement. Blades being sharpened and armoury being cleaned as the rebels prepared to move out. It doesn't take me long to tend to my injuries which leaves me wandering the castle, trying and failing not to think about Meghan, and the hurt in her eyes as I left her to tend to Goodfellow. Eventually, I find myself on the landing platform where the gliders are kept, far away from anyone who may be looking for me. Or rather, the one person I know will be looking for me. I want nothing more than to go to her and ask her forgiveness for the way I treated her today. To tell her that it's okay for her to not need me, even though the very idea that she doesn't kills me inside. I like to look after her, to make sure that she's sleeping and eating enough, to train her and heal her wounds. I think back to those blissful weeks at the cabin. Where it was just us and her father and there was nothing to worry about. No wars or battles. The most pressing thing was the threat of Meghan's ever growing fame within the fae community but, even that wasn't a problem at the cabin. It's hard to believe that was only a few days ago. Where Goodfellow, Meghan and I sat in the grass as the sun set. I don't think I've ever been so relaxed in my life.

The thing is I know that what she said was only done in the spur of the moment and, in fairness to her, I didn't really give her a chance to defend herself in any other way. I knew as soon as she said those words that she didn't mean them, didn't mean them at all. _I don't need you._ She might not have meant them, but her actions; the way she fought in that battle today – she could have handled it on her own. Without me. I need her. I need her to remind me that there is light in the darkness. That not everything has to be solved with bloodshed. Even as I think about all of this, I can feel my anger disappearing, my resolve weakening and my desire to see her again growing. As if my thoughts have brought her to my side, I hear footsteps behind me and I know, without looking, that it's her.

"It's unbelievable," I whisper, deciding to do the courageous thing and talk about something completely different than the words that were thrown between us earlier today. "To think that this was once the Nevernever. To know that it could all turn into this…" I shake my head as I look at the metal wasteland in front of me. "It would be the end of us. Faery would be extinct forever. Everything I knew, places that have stood since the beginning of time, gone."

"We won't let that happen," she says stepping up to join me at the edge. "The false king will be stopped, and this will go back to normal. I'm not going to let everything disappear." I almost smile at that. At the stubborn, determined woman standing next to me, who will do everything in her power to make sure that my home stays standing. _I know you will._ Is what I want to tell her. _I'm sorry for earlier, for being so cold. For hurting you, for letting you do that alone. I'm supposed to be your knight and today I wasn't, and I'm sorry._ But, I don't say any of that. Instead, the silence between us gets heavier and heavier with the words that both of us want to, need to, say to the other. Not surprisingly, Meghan breaks the silence first.

"I'm sorry, Ash," she murmurs. "For what I said earlier. I didn't mean it."

"No. You shouldn't apologize." I sigh and rake a hand through my hair. "I'm the one who taught you to fight, to take care of yourself. I have no right to be angry when you prove yourself capable of every lesson I gave you."

"I had a pretty good teacher." I smile a little at that. At those few words that remind me of all the faith she has in me. That I can protect her when she needs it, but also let her do what needs to be done. That I am not the monster my court expects me to be.

"You're not the same girl I met when you first came to the Nevernever, searching for your brother," I tell her softly. "You've grown…changed. You're stronger now, like she was. She was always the strong one," my voice is quiet as I remember. Two equally stubborn women, who want to be protected, but also want to change the world. "Even the Winter Court couldn't crush her spirit, turn her spiteful and cruel. She was better than all of us. But I couldn't save her." I close my eyes, as I replay that awful day. And then replay the moment where I thought Meghan was going to flatten herself against a tree. "She died because I failed to protect her. I can't…" I stop and take a breath. The mere thought that Meghan won't be here takes my breath away. "I can't watch that happen to you."

"I'm not her," I says, her arm slipping through mine. "You're not going to lose me, I promise." I shiver at the contact, and glance at her out of the corner of my eye. Her hair blowing back in the wind, the shadows under her eyes from lack of sleep. The cuts and grazes that are scattered over her exposed arms – she looks beautiful and strong. And what I need to tell her could take her away from me forever. And I don't know if I can handle that. I steel myself anyway, knowing that I can't put it off any longer. That the fear I've had from the moment I knew I was falling in love with her, needs to be said out loud.

"Meghan, there's something…I haven't told you. I should have explained before but…I was afraid it would be a self-fulfilling prophecy if you knew." He paused a moment, as if waiting for me to say something. When I didn't, he took a deep breath. "Long ago, someone told me that I would be cursed in love, that those I came to cherish would be torn from me, that as long as I remained soulless, I would lose everyone I truly cared for."

"Who told you that?" She asks.

"A very old druid priestess." Regret for what I did, for what I'm about to tell her courses through me. "This was before Ariella, back in the ancient times, when humans still feared and worshipped the old gods and had all sorts of rituals for keeping us out, which of course only challenged us to find ways around them. I was much younger then, and my brothers and I would play our cruel games with the mortals, particularly with the young, silly females we came across." I pause, watching her and trying to gauge her reaction, but her face is carefully guarded.

"Go on," she says quietly. I sigh and remove my arm from hers, turning to face her properly, so I can't hide from her reaction.

"There was a girl," I begin, "barely sixteen in mortal years, and as innocent as they came. Her favourite pastime was picking flowers and playing in the creek at the edge of the forest. I knew, because I watched her from the trees. She was always alone, carefree, so naive to the dangers in the woods." A hint of bitterness crept into his voice, a dark loathing for the faery in the story. I felt cold as he continued in a soft, flat voice. "I lured her into the forest with pretty words and gifts and promises of affection. I made sure she fell in love with me, that no other human male would ever make her feel what I could, and then I took it all away. I told her that mortals were nothing to the fey, that she was nothing. I told her that it was a game, nothing more, and that the game was now over. I broke more than her heart; I broke her spirit, broke her. And I revelled in it." Silence once more passes over us and I wait for her to say something, anything.

"What happened to her?" She asks eventually. I close my eyes, changing my mind about wanting to see her reaction to this.

"She died," I tell her. "She couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't do anything but pine away, until her body grew so weak it simply gave out."

"And you felt horribly guilty about it?" She asks and I desperately want to say yes. That I did feel guilty about what I did to that girl. That innocent, naïve young girl. Instead I say,

"I didn't think twice about her. Not having a soul frees us from any sort of conscience. She was only a human, and a foolish one at that, to fall in love with a faery. She wasn't the first, nor would she be the last. But her grandmother, the high priestess of the girl's clan, was not so foolish. She sought me out, and told me what I just told you—she cursed me, promised that I would be destined to lose everyone I truly cared for, that it was the price for being soulless. Of course, I just laughed it off as the superstitions of a weakling mortal…until I fell in love with Ariella." I pause for a moment, before saying softly enough that I'm not even sure she can hear me over the wind, "and now, with you." I turn away from her, looking back out over the ruins. "When Ariella was taken from me, I suddenly understood. We don't have a conscience, but falling in love changes things. I understood what I had put that girl through, the pain she suffered because of me. I told myself I wouldn't make the mistake of caring for someone again." I chuckle darkly. "And then you came along and ruined all that." And I will never be able to thank her enough for it.

"Why are you telling me this?" She whispers, and I stifle a wince.

"Because, I want you to understand what I am." I look down at her, at the beautiful girl who gives her love so freely. "I'm not a human with pointed ears, Meghan. I am and will always be Fey. Soulless. Immortal. Because of my actions that day, someone I loved died. And now, here we are, on the brink of war and-and I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll fail you like I did Ariella, that the crimes of my past will ruin any chance we have at a future. That you'll realize who I really am, what I really am, and when I turn around you'll be gone." I brace myself against the wind and listen hard so that I can hear her turn and walk away in disgust at the person she thought she loved.

I should know better.

She steps behind me and slips her arms around my waist, resting her head against my back and I can't stop the sharp breath I take in shock of the gesture. "That was a long time ago," she says, softly. "You've changed since then. That Ash wouldn't protect a silly human girl with his life, or become her knight, or walk into exile with her. Every step of the way, you've always been there, right beside me. I'm not letting you go now."

"I'm a coward. I tell her, my voice lifeless, despite having Meghan so close to me. Defending my actions. "If I cared for you as much as I should, I would end my life and the curse along with it. My existence puts you in danger. If I were no longer here—"

"Don't you dare, Ashallyn'darkmyr Tallyn." She holds me tighter as I flinch at the sound of my True Name. The name I told her so that only she knows. The name that I have never heard spoken aloud, barring the day Mab told it to me. "Don't you dare throw your life away for an unknown superstition. If you die—" her voice breaks and so does a piece of my heart, because I'm hurting her. "I love you," she whispers. "You can't leave. You swore you wouldn't." I smile a little at the memory as I rest my hands over hers, twining them together where they rest on my stomach.

"Even if the world stands against you," I murmur, bowing my head. "I promise."

* * *

 **Yes - it's an update! I know, I'm as shocked as you! Let me know what you think of this guys - I really hope you like it. Lots of Ash angst in this one. We've only got one more scene in the Iron Queen! I should ( _should)_ have that up for you soon guys. xxx**


	19. See you Again

**See you again**

Ferrum lets out an ear-splitting scream as branches erupt from his stomach. But I don't care about that. All I see as he staggers back is Meghan, my beautiful, brave Meghan, falling to the ground, her head hitting the floor with a thud. In that moment, all I can see is red. During all of this, I've continued to spar with Rowan, but now, I let lose the anger and fear that is rushing over me, and slam his sword away with a force that I didn't know I possessed. I step forward and, without a second thought, slam my blade through his armour into his chest, forcing my own glamour through the sword as well. Rowan arches his back as his insides freeze up; his face pure shock, as if he can't believe that I've finally bested him. That I've finally done what I should have done that night back in Tir Na Nog. I pull my sword out and watch as my brother splinters, hitting the floor in a million tiny pieces. A fitting end for the torment he's caused. Behind me, Goodfellow howls, and I turn to see three Goodfellows – a horrifying number as it is – two holding Tertius down as the third drives a dagger into his chest. The two doppelgangers disappear, and Goodfellow turns to face Ferrum once more. I don't think I've ever seen Puck look so scared.

"Damn you," Ferrum rasps. I watch Meghan with my heart in my throat. Her clothes blood stained and her face deathly pale. All I want is to run to her, to get her out of here, to a healer. But I can't get close – not with Ferrum still leaning over her, blocking my path. All I can do is stand and watch as the girl that I love lies on the floor, dying in front of me. "I thought I'd seen evil in Machina, but you are far, far worse. My power, all my power, gone. Wasted. At least I can take comfort in the fact that neither of us will have it in the end. You will die soon. Not even the power of the Iron King can save you n—" He breaks off as bark grows over his mouth, his eyes widening in fear as the bark continues to cover his face, before, in an instant, the Iron King is gone. In his place, stands a bare, skeletal tree. Pitiful really. I don't even realise I'm moving until I'm kneeling by Meghan. Her eyes closed and her breathing shallow and stilted. My hands hover over her broken body, wanting to hold her close, but not knowing where to touch her where it won't hurt her more.

"Meghan," I call, watching her for any sign that she's coming round. Nothing,

"Come on princess," Puck says, kneeling on her other side. "Open your eyes." Long minutes pass and I can feel the panic rising in me – the fear that she's gone. That I've lost the girl I love again. I give in to the temptation of holding her, gathering her gently in my arms, trying not to jostle her too much. Her skin is cold and I've never wished to be a Summer fey more in my life, if only I could warm her up. I consider passing her to Puck, but a sound fills my ears. The one sound that I never wanted to hear as long as I lived. Meghan's heart slowing.

"Meghan!" I say, my voice growing desperate as she starts to slip away from me. "Meghan, no! Don't do this. Come on, wake up. Please." _Please don't leave me. Not now. Not when I finally have you._ I beg. Her eyes open and I force myself to take a breath. She's still alive. She's still here. There's still time to save her.

"Ash," she whispers. My heart breaks at the sound. This is the girl who has taken on two iron Kings, both Queen's of Faery and my brother. The girl whose clever mind and sharp words have made her a force to be reckoned with, can't speak louder than a whisper. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think…now you'll fade away because of me, because I asked you to take that vow." She thinks I'm mad at her? That I would be angry at the prospect of giving up my life because she's gone? I press my face into her hair, inhaling the soft scent of jasmine that will always remind me of Meghan.

"If you are gone," I whisper back to her, not caring that my voice is shaking. That I, the last remaining Prince of the Winter Court, is on the verge of tears. "Then I will welcome nonexistence. There will be nothing left for me to live for." I pull back, pulling myself together. She's still breathing, she's still here. "There's still time," I murmur to myself as I stand, cradling her in my arms. "We have to get you to a healer." Puck comes to stand beside me, his hair standing out vibrantly against his pale face.

"Dammit Meghan," he snaps. I just manage to stop myself from snapping at _him._ Meghan is his best friend and he loves her just as much as I do. This is the only way he can justifiably release that fear. Even if it annoys me. "What the hell were you thinking? We have to get you to a healer, now!" He eyes the remaining guards before asking me, "do you think the bucket brigade will let us go, or should I carve a path through them?" Before I can answer, Meghan grabs hold of my shirt, though her words are what grab my attention the most.

"No." I look at her in surprise and confusion. No, don't kill the soldiers? That would make sense, considering all the bloodshed around us. "I can't go to a healer. Take me…" she gasps suddenly and my grip on her tightens, as if by simply holding her tighter will keep her with me. "Take me to the tree. The ruins. I have to go back…to where it all began." She can't mean that. She can't. Why? Why would she need to go back there, rather than heal herself? Rather than stay with me?

"No," I whisper back. I hold her gaze, silently begging her not to do this. There has to be another way to do what she needs. Another way other than killing herself.

"Princess, there's no time!" Puck says, desperation clinging to every word. "Don't be stupid! If we don't get you to a healer now, you'll die!" Meghan doesn't seem to hear him, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Ash, please," she begs. "Please. I don't have…much time left. This is my last request. I have to…get to that tree. Please." I can't stop the tear that escapes at her words. She knows how much this is hurting me. How much it's killing me to choose between what I want and what she needs.

"Don't listen to her, prince." Puck says, grabbing me roughly by the shoulder. "She's delirious. Get to a healer, dammit. Don't tell me you're going to listen to this insanity." But I am. I am listening to this insanity, because I can see that stubborn nature surging forward once more. If I refuse, she'll simply find someone else. And, more importantly, I know Meghan. She wouldn't waste her life, her one chance to survive if it wasn't important.

"Puck," Meghan whispers, a soft reprimand. Her gaze drifts to the amulet that still hangs around my neck. The one that shattered during my fight with Rowan. Her eyes widen and I know what she's going to say before she opens her mouth. And, in that instant, my mind is made up. "Oh, God, Ash. The amulet. You won't be protected in the Iron Kingdom anymore. Have someone else take me back." If she thinks I'd do that, then maybe she is delirious.

"I'll take you." I tell her firmly. I'm going to die anyway, that is the nature of my vow to her. I don't want to do that if we're apart.

"No, you won't!" Puck yells, his dagger drawn and pressed against my throat. I don't move, barely breathe, lest the blade digs in any more. "You'll take her to a healer prince, or so help me I will cut out that piece of ice you call a heart and take her myself." The truly terrifying thing is, I believe him. He truly will kill me for this, for taking her from him. From us.

"Puck, please." Meghan whispers again. "I-I have to do this. This is the only way to save everything. Please." Goodfellow looks how I feel. Absolutely distraught.

"How can you ask me to let you die?" He asks, his hand trembling slightly. I feel the bite of the knife as it digs into my throat, the cool trickle of blood running down my neck. "I'd do anything for you, Meghan. Just…not that. Not that." Carefully, she reaches up and closes her hand around the dagger, drawing it away from my neck, and I release a small breath. Puck steps back with a small sob, his eyes bright with unshed tears and his dagger drops, unceremoniously, to the floor.

"Are you sure this is what you want, princess?"

No," she whispers back, her own tears now spilling over. My arms tighten around her, wishing I could do more to take away this pain. To give her another option, another way out. My own uselessness crashes down around me. "No, Puck, it isn't. But, this is how it has to be." Puck takes hold of her hand and for a moment, we stand there. The three of us. Together in a way that I never imagined I would be again. The brave, beautiful girl in my arms has given me more than I could have ever wished for. And I will forever be indebted to her for it.

"Wow," Puck mutters, breaking the silence. "Here we are, the last night and all, and I can't think of anything to say." Meghan rests a gentle hand on his cheek and offers a small smile.

"How about goodbye?"

"Nah. I make a point of never saying goodbye, princess. Makes it sound like you're never coming back."

"Puck-" He leans down and kisses her. My arms tighten around her, every instinct in my body screaming to retaliate. To remind him that she's mine, not his. But, I don't. I don't because, he loves her as much as I do. He has a right to tell her goodbye, in his own way. Even if that way was probably done to get under my skin as much as anything else.

"Take care of her ice-boy. I guess I won't be seeing you either, will I? It was…fun, while it lasted."

"I'm sorry we didn't get to kill each other," I tell him. Though I'm not, not really. Puck chuckles, like he knows exactly what I mean as he retrieves his dagger.

"My one and only regret. Too bad, that would have been an epic fight." He grins at us, that infuriating grin that has driven me mad for centuries. "See you around, lovebirds." Glamour pulses through the air, and Puck disappears, a flock of ravens flying around the room, over the knights heads for a moment are the last sign of him, before, even they, disappear.

* * *

Surprisingly, the knights let us through without a problem. Perhaps it's the look on my face, a promise of death if they even think of slowing me down. Cradled in my arms, Meghan's eyes are getting dangerously low; but I can see her struggling to stay awake, to stay with me. If I wasn't leading her to her death, the sight would have brought a smile to my face. Stubborn until the very end. I don't stop, knowing that if I do, I won't be able to start again. So, I walk resolutely through the legions of Iron, Summer and Winter, ignoring them all as they part to let us through. I don't even pause to offer a nod to my Queen as I pass; something I know won't have gone unnoticed, but I no longer care. I stop only when I reach a waiting frost dragon.

"Take us to the Iron Kingdom," I tell it firmly, leaving no room for arguments. "Now." It hisses as it stretches out its neck, and crouches so that I can get on. The dragon spreads it's wings and, silently rises into the air. The only sound left on the battle field is the sound of the gremlins cries as Meghan and I are flown away.

I don't watch where we're going, trusting the frost dragon to know where to go. Instead, I focus on Meghan. On her increasingly slow heartbeat, on her pale skin, on the blood that is still oozing out of the wound in her stomach. I watch her, and clutch her tighter to me, hoping that it helps in some small way. The wound is so large that nothing I can do alone will help her. All I can do is hold on, and hope that she makes it, so that she can do what she has to.

We land with a soft thump, and I slide off the dragon and start to walk away. The beast rumbles behind me, a silent question. _Can I go?_

"Yes, go," I murmur, knowing it will hear me. The shock of wind is the only notice we get that the dragon has done as I asked. We're alone. I carry her through the ruins, stopping only when we reach the base of that accursed tree. The sight of it makes me tremble, but, thankfully, my voice remains steady when I stop and lower my head to hers and say,

"We're here." She rouses herself and I can feel the weak glamour that she sends out, looking for something.

"Lay me down…at the base," she whispers, after a moment. I do so, my throat constricting. This is it. This is where I'm going to lose her. Once and for all. The thought causes those tears that I've managed to keep locked inside of me, spill over. I meet her gaze and her beautiful smile. She squeezes my hand and I know, without her saying anything that she's telling me not to blame myself. That this couldn't be helped. And I want to believe her. More than anything.

"It was…quite a ride, wasn't it?" She says, so softly that I can barely hear her. My heart breaks at the tears that are running down her cheeks, even as she tries to make them stop. Tries to be brave. _So that I won't hurt so much_ I realise. Even now, she's trying to protect me. "I'm sorry, Ash. I wish…we had more time. I wish…I could've gone with you…but things didn't quite work out, did they?" I bring her hand to my lips, kissing it gently.

"I love you Meghan Chase. For the rest of my life, for however long we have left. I'll consider it an honour to die beside you." Truer words have never been spoken. I would give anything to have more time with her. But, at least I know that my pain won't be drawn out. Not like with Ariella. I don't want to spend one more moment apart from Meghan, not anymore. But I know that look on her face all too well, and a hollow, sinking feeling settles into my gut. Whatever she's about to say, I know I'm not going to like it.

"Ash," she says, reaching up with her free hand, tracing my jaw with her fingers. "I love you. Never forget that. And I…I wanted to live the rest of my life with you. But...but I…I can't let you die because of me. I won't allow it." No. She wouldn't. She wouldn't do this.

"Meghan, no," I breathe. I need to say something. I need to find something that will stop her from doing this. But I _can't._

"It's alright if you hate me. In fact, that might be for the best. Hate me, so you can find someone…someone else to love. But I want you to live, Ash. You have so much to live for." I almost laugh at the thought, at the very idea that I could hate her. That I could find someone else to love after her. No one. No one will ever compare to her. Will never make me feel…alive like this. I grip her hand as tight as I dare as I beg her,

"Please. Don't do this." Since when has Meghan Chase ever done as she's told?

"I release you, from your vow of Knighthood, and the promises you made. Your service to me is done, Ash. You're free." I bow my head, my body shuddering at the effort it takes to not burst in to tears. _You're not freeing me;_ I want to tell her. _I won't ever be free if you aren't here with me. Let me stay. Let me stay with you, let me give you this, after everything you've done for me. Let me give you the comfort of not doing this alone. Be selfish for once – just don't do this._ "Now," she says, releasing my hand, though I can see the effort it takes for her to do so. "Get out of here, Ash. Before it's too late."

"No," I growl. I refuse. I'm not leaving her. Not like this.

"Ash, you can't stay. The amulet is gone. If you're here much longer, you'll die." I don't say anything. What is there to say? Either I die with her, here, or I die alone. I know which one I'd rather have. Meghan takes a deep breath and I hope, with all of my heart, that for once, she is going to listen. That she's going to see that she's wrong about this. That sending me away is the worst thing she could do.

I should know better. Meghan Chase has surprised me every day since the day I met her. Why should she start doing anything different now?  
"Ashallyn'darkmyr Tallyn," I close my eyes. "By the power of your True Name, leave the Iron Realm right now. And don't come back." Even without looking at her, I can almost taste the regret pouring off of her and I can't help but fall in love with her even more. She _hates_ this, just as much as I do. Even if I can't stay, I'm not going to let her go thinking that I hate her, that I _blame_ her for this. At the end, she's doing what she always does. Protecting me. Despite that, everything inside me is fighting the urge to leave and I can't help the sob that escapes me as I rise.

"I will always be your Knight, Meghan Chase," I whisper, as the urge to obey gets stronger. "And I swear, if there is a way for us to be together, I will find it. No matter how long it takes. If I have to chase your soul to the edge of eternity, I won't stop until I find you, I promise." And then, I walk away. I walk away from her. Every step is heavy and my heart breaks a little more and I the look on her face as she sends me away is killing me inside. It shouldn't have ended like this. She shouldn't have to have given her life for this.

I don't stop until I feel a shudder roll through the land around me, shaking the trees and, following that, a rush of glamour. Iron and…Summer.

 _Meghan._

I almost break down right there, because I know. I know in my heart what that means. That she's gone. That I've lost her for good. I start walking once more, not stopping when dusk turns to night, or when night turns to dawn. As I walk, I think about that beautiful, brave, stubborn half-human that I've fallen in love with. The nervous way she beheld me during our first dance at Elysium, to taking care of me in this very Kingdom, to standing by me no matter how badly I've hurt her. All the moments we've had together race through my mind on a constant replay, until I reach the edge of the Camp.

My presence goes unnoticed at first, but, slowly, one by one, knights start to look up from where they're cleaning their blades, red caps watch with an evil glint in their eye as I pass. As I reach the centre of the camp, Mab and Oberon watch me. I barely spare them a glance, wanting nothing more than to reach a spare tent and collapse into it. I stalk past them, into the tent that I shared with Meghan the night before we left. Was it only a day ago that we were here? I lay down on the pillow, tears springing to my eyes as the soft scent of jasmine floats over me. Distantly, I hear the tent flap open.

"She's gone?" Puck murmurs. I don't care that he's seeing me cry, not when his own voice is choked from tears.

"As far as I know."

"What do you mean, as far as you know? Speaking of ice-boy, why the hell are you here?" Puck asks angrily.

"She sent me away," I whisper, so quietly that I'm not sure he hears me.

"What?"

"She sent me away," I say, louder this time, rising from the bed and pacing the small space. "She released me of my vow and used my True Name to send me away. She didn't want me to die, didn't want me to _waste my life_ for her, didn't want me to see her die. So, to answer your question, as far as I know, she's gone." By the time I'm finished, I'm shouting at him. Using the anger and guilt I feel and projecting it onto him, because he doesn't mind. That's what we've always done. Used each other as a way to rid ourselves of the anger and frustration that comes from being so high up in our respective courts.

"Easy," Puck says, gently and I look down to realise that the ground I'm stood on is covered in a layer of frost. "We don't know that she's gone then," he continues, sitting on a chest and crossing his arms.

"Yes, Goodfellow. We do know. There's no way she could have survived." Not after all that glamour that was released into the ground. Puck snorts.

"Are we talking about the same person? If you believe that she hasn't found a way to fight off death after everything, then you don't her as well as I thought you did." I sigh, my brief flash of anger ebbing away and drop back down to the bed, raking a hand through my hair.

"You didn't see her Puck. She…she knew what was going to happen. She used the last of her strength to fix things and to save me. I don't think she had enough strength left to save herself."

"I'm not going to tell you you're wrong, Ash, because you might not be. Maybe, I just want to believe that she's still alive. Still causing chaos in the Iron Kingdom. Or, maybe you are wrong. Are you just going to lie here and mope? Is that what she would have wanted you to do?" I sigh, and shake my head. Damn him, but he's right. Meghan did the one thing she never wanted to do – she used my True Name against me. To save me. What were her last words to me? _You have so much to live for._ For her, I will live. At least live long enough to keep my promise to her. To find her again, no matter what. Puck must see the change in my face, because he grins and stands.

"Good. Now, your darling mother has requested your presence and, after that, you're going to tell me what you're planning to do, because whatever it is, it looks like fun." I roll my eyes, and walk out of the tent, Goodfellow two steps behind me, chattering all the way. For the first time in a long time, I don't mind.

* * *

I step into the tent acting as a makeshift command centre for the monarchs. They're all there, on their thrones. I bow stiffly to them, wanting nothing more than to leave, to plan my next move, to plan on how I'm going to see Meghan again.

"Ash," Mab purrs, and I just barely stifle a grimace. "My son, you survived after all." I stay silent, not trusting myself to say anything. "I wanted to ensure you are prepared for our departure back to Tir Na Nog. We'll be leaving-" before she can continue, I interrupt.

"Actually, my Queen, I will not be returning to Tir Na Nog with you." The air drops ten degrees, and Mab's eyes sharpen.

"Oh? And why would that be?" She asks calmly.

"I need some time, my Queen." I begin. "Meghan Chase-" this time, I'm the one who is interrupted. By a very familiar face.

"Alright, socket head?" Puck drawls from beside me as Glitch bows at the monarchs. "Thought we'd seen the last of you." Glitch rolls his eyes in Puck's direction before turning to face the monarchs.

"I'm here on behalf of the new ruler of the Iron Kingdom," he says.

"What?" Puck asks. "There's another King? How many do you guys have?"

"I never said King, Goodfellow." Glitch says coolly. "Let me clarify. I am here on behalf of the Iron Kingdom's new Queen. Meghan Chase." Everything stops. I'm not sure I'm even breathing as Glitch's words sink in.

The new Iron Queen.

The Iron Queen.

"Well I'll be damned," Puck mutters from behind me, before hitting my arm. "What did I tell you? Our girl is too stubborn to let a little thing like death stop her."

"She has asked to set up a meeting in two weeks' time with both courts, in order to sign a new treaty of peace between all three courts."

"Absolutely not!" Titania explodes. "If that little whelp thinks that war will not descend upon her for this-"

"Enough, wife." Oberon says, holding up a hand. He turns to Glitch. "The Summer Court will be happy to have a meeting with the Iron Queen. After this last battle, our soldiers are wounded and we have suffered many casualties. We do not want another war, not so soon after this one has been won. Wouldn't you agree, Lady Mab?" Mab glares at Oberon for a moment, before nodding in agreement. Titania simply stares in horror at her husband as he dismisses Glitch. I don't spare another thought for the monarchs as I race after Glitch, catching him as he swings up on to one of the iron horses that are waiting outside.

"Is she okay?" I ask breathlessly. Glitch smiles.

"She's fine prince. She asked me to tell you that this doesn't change what she said. She wants you to move on, to love again. Though, what I think she wanted to say was that she loves you." He shrugs.

"Will you give her a message from me?" I ask him. He nods.

"Tell her, what happened doesn't change my promise either. And that I will always love her, no matter what happens."

"I will. Goodbye prince." With that, Glitch and his knights ride off. Back to the Iron Kingdom. Back to Meghan.

 _Soon,_ I promise myself. _Soon, I'll be with you again. You have made my life much easier my beautiful, stubborn Meghan. Soon, I'll see you again. I promise._

* * *

 **No, your eyes are not deceiving you - it is another update! And this is the last 'official' chapter from the Iron Queen and, therefore from the books. But, because I have grown so attached to this FanFiction, there will be a few 'deleted scenes' coming your way. Parts that I have been dying to read about from Ash's POV that are missing from the books themselves. I'm not taking requests for these because I already have them planned out, so you will have to stick around to see what these scenes are. Let me know what you think of this guys, I really enjoyed writing this one so I hope you liked it. Thank you for all of your amazing reviews I really do appreciate them and they make my day. See you soon guys xxx**


	20. Deleted Scene 1

**Because he fell in love with my princess**

I don't think I have ever cursed Robin Goodfellow so much in my life as I follow Titania through the maze, further and further away from civilisation. We walked in silence, Titania striding ahead of me, and if the glamour coming off of her is anything to go by, her intentions for 'Sir Torin' are anything but pure. The idea of being trapped in this maze with the Summer Queen makes me nervous anyway, when she is trying to lure me to her bed? It takes everything in me to not make a run for it now while she's not looking. It might have helped if Goodfellow had deigned to fill me in on this grand plan of his, more than the bare basics of keeping Titania occupied while he gets the girl.

We reach a small spring and Titania stops by the edge, bending to push a water lily back into the centre of the spring. I hover at the edge of the maze, watching her warily. She looks over and smiles, making my insides churn.

"Come here, Sir Torin," she says, her voice sickly sweet, though there's no mistaking the command running under her words. I have no choice but to join her by the edge of the fountain. She kneels by the edge, looking into the water, her hand taking mine and pulling me down beside her. The fountain is supposed to be a calming influence, but it sets me on edge as Titania turns to face me. "Do you like the fountain, Sir Torin?"

"It is very nice, my Lady," I reply thickly.

"This is one of my favourite places in all of the Summer Court. Very few know it's here."

"I am honoured that you are sharing it with me, my Lady." Where is Goodfellow? I can't help but wonder how long it takes to get the girl to safety. Titania shifts slightly, her knee touching mine, her hand coming to rest on my chest. I swallow. This is going far further than I thought it would. The last time someone touched me in this way was in a tent on the eve of war. Her gold hair falling like a curtain, tickling my skin. I would give anything to be there again. With her. Instead, I'm here. a fugitive in an enemy court, pretending to be enthralled with Meghan's step mother.

"We know each other well, do we not, Sir Torin?" She asks softly. My heart races in panic. This is definitely going further than I had planned. Where the hell is Goodfellow?

"Er-"

"There are other places in the palace that I would love to show you whilst you are here." I know exactly where she wants to take me, and there is no way I'm going there with her. She leans in closer, as if she's about to kiss me. I lean back.

"My lady, I…I cannot do this anymore." I tell her quickly. "What of your husband? Lord Oberon-"

"Lord Oberon," Titania says, putting her finger against my mouth to silence me. I swallow the nausea that is threatening to rise up. "Is not here. And what Oberon does not know-" she leans in even closer and I list all the ways this could go horribly wrong if Goodfellow doesn't get his ass in gear and get me out. "-will not hurt him."

"You are so right, Queen Titania!" Goodfellow says, stepping out from behind the fountain. If I wasn't so relieved to see him, I would have offered him a glare. "What Oberon doesn't know will not hurt him. Why, I tell myself that almost every single day. It's so nice to know we have so much in common." Titania jumps and steps away from me, leaving me to release a shaky breath.

"Robin Goodfellow!" She says, curling her lips up in distaste at the sight of him. She stands, drawing herself up to her full height so that she can better glare down at Puck. At least her attention isn't on me anymore. "How dare you! How dare you come here uninvited, especially when my husband is away from court! Or…did he put you up to this? You have always been his little spy, his good little watchdog, always there for the tasks he finds too distasteful to do himself. Pathetic. You both are pathetic!" Lightning flashes overhead and I wince at both the display, and the words that the Summer Queen has thrown at Puck. I know how much Puck values his role in the Summer Court, though he isn't stupid. He knows Oberon uses him, sends him on errands that are far beneath his skill set. Yet he doesn't complain, because Oberon has always allowed him a great deal of freedom. More than Mab ever allowed me or Rowan. Even so, I knew those words would sting. "Perhaps the great Robin Goodfellow will meet with an unfortunate accident," she mused, the gentle summer breeze quickly growing into a summer storm around us, her hair flying with the power. "Something that will silence him completely for a few centuries."

"Now, now," Puck says with a smirk, wagging a finger in her direction. How he does it I will never know. Constantly defying his rulers. I can't imagine wagging a finger at Mab. The mere thought makes me shudder. "I would think you'd want to reward me, my good queen. After all, I've just stopped you from making a highly embarrassing mistake. You've been duped, my lady. Taken advantage of. You have an enemy right under your nose, and you didn't even realise it." This is my cue. With the storm raging around us, it's easy to miss the pulse of glamour that comes from Puck, wrapping around my body. Within seconds, there's a second copy of Sir Torin standing next to me. I quietly slip into the forest behind me, leaving the copy in my place. I stick to the shadows, easing around the edge of the little courtyard, so that Titania can't see me, but equally, close enough that I can still hear their conversation.

"What trickery are you playing at, Goodfellow?" Titania asks warily.

"Believe what you will," Puck replies, nonchalantly. "Call me what you want, hate me if you will, but I'm still a faithful servant of the Summer Court. This is my home, and I would do anything to protect it. And when it comes to my attention that we've been invaded by an enemy, I can't sit by and do nothing, even if it means warning you." I roll my eyes at his words. It's like he has no concept of the idea of danger.

"What are you-" I pause long enough to see the realisation light up her eyes. "Leanansidhe." Titania hisses. "She sent someone. Someone to steal my human pet. Where-" I almost jumped Titania right there. _Human pet._ It seems I've spent too much time around Meghan, but I can't help but be indignant at her words. She's not a _pet._ She's a _child._ A little girl, with a family who is missing her. I can imagine what Meghan would say if she heard that. I grin at the image. Meghan would not be able to sit still after hearing that. She'd be itching for a fight, even with Titania. My money would be on Meghan all the way. She's probably the only person who could get away with fighting a faerie queen. I come to where Puck has set the little girl on the ground. Resting against the trunk of the tree. It seems strange to think that this little girl, is like Meghan. She was this young once. I can't help but wish I'd known her then. Perhaps I'll stop off at Meghan's house – see if I can find any photos. I can just imagine what she'd do if she found out. I bite back the chuckle. My feisty princess. I carefully pick Vi up, cradling her against me, as I turn back in time to see Puck rid my duplicate of the glamour, disguising him as Sir Torin. I can't help but be impressed. The duplicate stares at Puck in horror as Titania's screech pierces the air. She turns and sweeps her arm down toward the other me, a bolt of lightning hitting him in the chest. The force slams him into a statue of a mermaid and leaves him in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the statue, looking dazed.

"Ouch," Puck says, his arms crossed. "That looked painful. Hit him again, just to make sure he stays down." Goodfellow is enjoying this way too much. Titania spins back to face Puck, her eyes flashing with rage. "You." She says and I stand straighter. Huh, looks like that smug look's about to be wiped off Goodfellow's face. He takes a step back – perhaps he does have some sense of self-preservation after all. "I do not know how you did this, or why, but this is one of your pranks, I know it! What foul mischief do you have up your sleeve this time?"

"Me?" He laces his hands behind his head. "You give me too much credit, Queen Titania."

"I am not a fool Robin Goodfellow," Titania booms. This is turning into a better show than I had anticipated. "The Winter prince is cunning and strong, but he could not have acted alone." I'm almost flattered that Titania thinks so highly of me. "You snuck the prince into Arcadia – you are the only one whose glamour is strong enough to hide him from me. Before I make the son of Mab beg for mercy, I want to know why you did this! You were friends once, long ago. Why this sudden change of heart?" I'm expecting something along the lines of _why not? I've been trying to kill him for centuries._ I'm not expecting his actual answer, although I suppose I should have done.

"Because. He fell in love with my princess." The storm dies and silence reigns for a moment. I had thought Goodfellow had gotten over that. But, when I think back to that period of time when I had sent Meghan away, tried to keep away from her, despite knowing I loved her. How there was a permanent ache in my stomach. How my heart hurt every time I thought about her. How the same is happening now, and only this impossible task I've set myself is helping to keep the ache from taking over. You don't just get over Meghan Chase. I should have known that Goodfellow wouldn't be able to let his feelings go. It's hard to think that he loves her just as much as I do. I don't know what I would do if she had chosen Puck.

"Ah." Titania says with a sly smile. "And now, it makes sense. Robin Goodfellow, you do have a bit of a nasty streak in you, after all. Oberon's little dog has some bite. I'm almost proud of you." If she thought Goodfellow doesn't have a 'nasty streak' in him, then she truly doesn't know the first thing about him. Goodfellow could be the scariest faerie in all of the Nevernever if he wanted to. He might be the most irritating person I know, but I'm secretly thankful for that humour that keeps him from crossing the line that I know is inside of him. If he ever did cross that line, I'm not sure I'd ever want to face him.

"I didn't do it for you," he says. "I did it for Meghan. And I did it for me. And if you want to make ice-boy pay for your humiliation, you'd better do something about him real soon. He's on his feet already." Indeed, my copy had finally risen to his feet and drawn his sword, backing away from the fiery temper of the Summer Queen, though that doesn't stop him from levelling a glare at Goodfellow. Titania sends another bolt of lightning towards him, though the other Ash seems to have learnt his lesson from the first time, and manages to duck behind the fountain.

"Better run ice-boy," Puck says lazily. My copy had already had the same idea, diving to the floor to narrowly miss being hit by yet another lightning bolt, before scrambling to his feet and diving into the maze.

"Stop him!" Titania yells, her glamour bouncing off the trees, and snapping in storm that has blown up again. "Stop him!" Hedge lions, unicorns and hounds leapt off their posts and raced after the duplicate. I almost felt sorry for it. "Go!" Titania shrieks. "Find the Winter prince. Hunt him down and tear him to pieces." Titania watches them go before turning back to face Puck, her eyes flashing like the lightning bolts she'd sent after my copy. "I will find him!" She tells him fiercely. "He will pay for this humiliation! Goodfellow, call the guards, the knights, the servants. Alert the rest of Arcadia. The Winter prince will not leave this court alive!" Puck bows.

"Certainly, my queen. And may I suggest squads of at least four to six knights if you're going to have them looking for ice-boy? Unless you want to find frozen shish kebabs littering the halls all the way to the Wyldwood. Ash is pretty handy with that sword." Titania's eyes flash once more as she raises a hand, summoning one final bolt of lightning which hits the ground, making the ground smoke and burn. And she was gone. I shift Vi in my arms slightly, before finally stepping out of the cover of the trees.

"Nice performance, Goodfellow," I drawl. He turns warily, taking me and the sleeping child in my arms in. I can't wait till I get my own body back.

"Oh good, you found her," Pucks says, trying to grin at me, though it falls flat. "Yeah, it was quite the performance, wasn't it? Good enough to fool a faery queen and the entire Summer Court. This will probably go down in history." I don't smile at his words, I can't muster up any emotion other than anxiety. I'm still in Summer territory. It won't take the knights long to corner my duplicate and realise they've been tricked. Puck sighs. "So, how much of that did you hear?"

"Enough," I reply, not wanting to admit that I'd heard most of it.

"That so?" I don't think I've ever seen Goodfellow look so…tired. "And do you have anything to say about that, ice-boy?"

"No." I tell him, shaking my head. "You said what you had to. You did what was required to get the job done."

"Oh? That's awfully generous of you, Prince."

"None of it was a lie, Goodfellow. Nothing you said or did was against your nature. That's why Titania believed you so quickly. I would have believed it too." In fact, I did believe it. Had seen the evidence for myself when Meghan chose me over him. His hurt and anger. He sighs.

"Good to know where I stand," he mutters. "Well, come on then, ice-boy. Let's get out of here before Titania catches your doppelganger and finds nothing is holding him together but twigs, string and a bit of your hair. With all the commotion going on, it should be easy to sneak out nice and quiet." I gladly followed Goodfellow into the maze, eager to shed myself of this body.

Though, of course, Robin Goodfellow doesn't know the meaning of nice and quiet. It doesn't take five minutes before we run into a lion topiary that needs to be dealt with. On the bright side, unsheathing my sword to deal with the creature finally broke Puck's glamour on me. I hoped that might be it, but of course, we then ran into a group of knights and had to dive into the hedges in order to escape. Vi sleeps through the whole ordeal, although she's probably going to have a number of scrapes that she has no recollection of getting. I follow Puck blindly around corners…until we hit a dead end. I curse quietly as the sound of boots gets steadily louder behind us.

"Did you take a wrong turn, Goodfellow?" I growl at him.

"Relax ice-boy. I know what I'm doing." That's debatable. He hunts under an old log, he pulls out a piece of green cloth, littered with rips and tears. He shakes it before hanging it on some thorns on the bush, before pulling it back to reveal a hole that wasn't there a moment ago. I don't stop to question it, I simply duck through the hole, Puck following behind, tearing the cloth off behind him, plunging us into darkness.

"Where are we?" I whisper, coming to a stop. Puck snaps his fingers and a fire springs up in a fireplace, illuminating a small cabin made of live trees.

"Welcome, to my humble abode," Puck says with a grin. I stare at the cabin in amazement. After all these years, I never knew about this place.

"This is your house, Goodfellow?" I ask, eyeing the animals that have taken up residence warily.

"One of several," he replies, shooing a fox out of the armchair and sinking down into it. "I like to have a little place I can retreat to, to escape the craziness of the court, to relax without anyone knowing where I am."

"To hide out when Oberon is ready to kill you," I say drily. I know him too well.

"Ouch ice-boy. Be nice in my home, will you? Don't make me regret bringing you here." He leans back in the chair, propping his feet on a footstool, reminding me for a moment of a wrinkly old man that I had seen in my time in the mortal world when Meghan and I had been exiled. He was covered in wrinkles and bent over a walking stick. He shuffled along the street and I remember Meghan feeling sorry for him. She had told me that he reminded her of her grandfather, before he'd died. He wanted to be independent, but he could barely move by the end. My heart clenches at the thought of Meghan, alone in the Iron Court. _Soon,_ I tell myself. _Soon we can start._ "Don't worry, this place is in the mortal world – no one from court can sense where we are anymore." Well that's a relief anyway.

"So, we're out," I murmur, almost to myself, turning to look at the wall we'd just come through. "We found the 'violin' and got out of the Summer Court. So, I guess the only question is, what do we do now?" Puck points to a bed in the corner of the cabin and I gently set Vi down on it, brushing back a stand of hair that had fallen across her face. The idea of one day, possibly having children has never really crossed my mind, but, right now, staring at this little girl in front of me, I can't help but wonder what it would be like. I think, maybe, I'd like it. To have a family. Vi stirs a little and murmurs 'mommy', but, thankfully doesn't wake.

"Leanansidhe will probably be waiting for us," Puck says. I turn to find the fox has settled in his lap and is looking incredibly smug as Puck strokes its fur. "She's probably on her way right now." And isn't that just a pleasant thought?

"Yeah," I say, crossing my arms and turning back to watch the sleeping girl. "How do you want to do this Goodfellow?" The cabin is silent for a few moments before Puck jumps to his feet, dislodging the fox who barks his annoyance in Puck's direction as he heads upstairs. "Don't worry ice-boy. I have one last little trick up my sleeves." I let him go without a word, my thoughts heading back to my princess. Wondering where she is right now, what she's doing. Whether she's thinking about me as much as I'm thinking about her. _Soon Meghan. As soon as we finish this, I'll start searching for a way to be with you. Soon._

* * *

 **So, here is your first 'deleted scene' although I think it was actually a request from one of the very first chapters of this fic. This is from the e-novella Summer's Crossing which is told in Puck's POV and occurs after the Iron Queen and just before the Iron Knight. I'm no longer taking requests for this fic now, so, unfortuantly to the guest who reviewed and asked for a scene in the Iron Queen, I'm not going to be able to do it now - I'm really sorry about that! Let me know what you think of this little scene guys - and what you think is coming next! xxx**


	21. Deleted Scene 2

**I Came Home**

It's bigger than I remember. The hulking building where Meghan is residing looms above me, gleaming bronze cogs adorning the side of the palace. I don't remember those being here the last time, although I'll admit, I was a little distracted. Perhaps this is Meghan's ode to the Clockmaker that we met on our trip here. I eye the drawbridge warily. Iron Knights guard the entrance, their armour gleaming in the sunlight. Being here is making me nervous, despite knowing that this realm will no longer harm me, it's hard to undo centuries worth of paranoia when it comes to being in close contact with iron. Just beyond those doors, somewhere in this monstrosity of a building, is Meghan Chase. The woman I love more than anything. The woman I went to the End of the World for. The woman that gave her life to protect me. Who thought I would choose the love I had lost years ago, over her.

Yes, the iron is making me nervous. The thought that she is so close and yet, possibly so far away, is worse.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for this final part of my journey, before forcing myself to head towards those armed Knights. It takes them seconds to draw their weapons and I stop halfway across the drawbridge, trying to make myself seem less of a threat. The fact that they're protecting Meghan from me both irritates me and relieves me. I haven't wanted to admit to being worried about the security of the Iron Kingdom while I was travelling to the End of the World. The fact that the realm is poisonous to Summer and Winter fey has done little to alleviate that niggling worry in the back of my mind.

What can I say? I know Meghan Chase. If there's trouble to be found, she's normally right in the middle of it.

"State your name, and your intention here today," one of the knights says, his sword pointed at my chest.

"My name is Ash, former prince of Tir Na Nog. Son of Queen Mab and Knight to your Queen, Meghan Chase. I'm here to see her." The knights share a look with each other.

"Prince Ash has been exiled from these lands. On orders from Queen Meghan herself." They take another step closer, and I fight the urge to withdraw my own sword. Drawing my weapon is not going to help the situation. However, if they keep me from seeing Meghan much longer, that sliver of patience is quickly going to close. I rack my brain, trying to think of someone, anyone, who will vouch for me. And then, it comes to me. If he's still around (and I'm pretty sure he will be. He's too obnoxious to have left), then I should be able to convince him of my intentions.

"I fought in the war alongside the first lieutenant of the Iron King Machina; Glitch. Bring him here and he'll vouch for me." The knights share another look, silently debating on finding the irritating lieutenant.

"Wait here," the knight, who is obviously in charge says, turning and striding off back into the tower, leaving the other knight staring me down. I try to ignore the slight shaking of the sword he holds, the nerves that are obvious even now. I try, but I can't. Centuries of sword drills being beaten in to me hit hard. Every knight I've ever met takes pride in their position in their courts army. There are no nerves, no worries that are translated in battle. There can't be. The second you start feeling sorry for someone you've killed; is the moment you suffer the same fate. Perhaps my worries about Meghan's protection detail are well founded after all.

"Hey," I say, resisting the urge to shake my head as the knight in front of me almost drops his sword in fear. "How old are you?" He stares at me like I've lost my mind. Maybe I have. "Seriously, have you had _any_ training to do this?" He blinks at me and I sigh. Where the hell is Glitch?

"I've had a couple of training sessions," the young knight in front of me answers quietly. "I haven't been here long to have much more than that."

"And they've put you out here? As the first line of defence to the Queen?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Not many people pose a risk to the Iron Kingdom. I think the general thought being out here would require little to no training at all. So far, he's been right." He shrugs, like it's no big deal. Like he's not risking the safety of his Queen by not being able to do his job properly. I push down the anger rising in me.

"And if I wasn't here peacefully? If I had come to the Iron Kingdom not to see your Queen, but to harm her, kill her? What would you have done to stop me?" He doesn't say anything, though his face does darken slightly as my words register. The silence between us is answer enough. Behind the knight, I heard the familiar sound of the Iron Kingdom's lieutenant coming closer. "Just, think about it," I tell him quietly. The knight nods, standing to attention as his fellow knight and lieutenant come to stand next to him.

"Well I'll be damned, it is you Prince," Glitch says with a grin. I roll my eyes at him.

"Can you get your knights to stand down now Glitch?" I ask him. Glitch just nods at the knights who both sheath their weapons once more.

"I thought Meghan told you never to come back here Prince."

"She did. And as the fey Prince of Winter, I had to uphold that. It was either that or I'd be killed. As I am now, I don't think it applies." Glitch raises an eyebrow at me.

"As you are now?"

"I'm no longer pure fey. I am like Meghan – half fey, half human. Human enough to be able to stand here and talk to you with no ill effects." The knights gape at me.

"How?" The young knight asks. "How is that even possible." I offer them a smug grin of my own.

"If you travel far enough in the Nevernever, anything is possible."

"Something tells me that there is a long and complicated story behind all of this, but I can wait until you've been reunited with Meghan to hear it." Glitch says. For a moment, I channel Goodfellow and bow mockingly at him.

"Much appreciated Glitch."

"Come along Prince. Your Princess is currently holding court in the Throne Room. I can't think of anywhere better to make your grand entrance." I gesture to him to lead the way, the mere mention of Meghan enough to dissolve the sarcastic comment I was planning to make.

* * *

"How is she?" I ask as we walk through the halls. He shoots me a glance.

"She's tough. She thinks she has us all fooled, but she doesn't. All of us who work closely with her know how hard she's found all of this. How hard she's found it, doing it all alone. We've tried to help her transition as much as possible, but I don't know if you know this, but your girlfriend is stubborn." I chuckle. Yes, yes she is. If there is the option for Meghan to do something herself, she'll do it. No matter the consequences. As we near the throne room, my heart starts to beat faster in anticipation. We pause outside the doors, the knights stationed there eyeing me curiously. I ignore them, focusing instead on the cloak that I produce from one of my pockets. This cloak has come with me to the End of the World, and you can definitely tell. It's covered in dust and tears and probably some blood too. I put it on regardless, ignoring the questioning look I get from Glitch. I want to surprise Meghan. I want to put on a show. Huh, Goodfellow would be proud.

"Follow me," Glitch says once I've finished, turning on his heel and striding to the doors. I follow him, tugging the cowl further over my face so that no one can see me. The knights stationed by the doors open them with a loud groan and, in silence, I follow Glitch in to the throne room.

I don't dare lift my head up, for fear that Meghan will see who I am. The waiting fey hurry to part, leaving a wide gap for Glitch and myself to walk down. The cloak swings with my strides and I grimace at the tears and the dust that cover it. I wish I were wearing something a little finer to see her in. Or at least something that didn't have dried blood on it. Oh well, it can't be helped. Glitch stops at the foot of the dais, bowing to Meghan. I wait behind him, keeping my eyes trained on him, rather than the beautiful Queen sat on the throne in front of us.

"Majesty," he says, a grin evident in his voice, despite the formal tone he uses. "This traveller has come far to request an audience with you. I know you are very busy at the moment, bust as he has come a great distance, perhaps you can hear him out." Glitch bows again before moving off to stand by the wall. I take a breath, trying to steady my nerves. Why am I so nervous? It's not like I'm greeting a foreign Queen – this is Meghan.

"Come forward," she says and I bite back a smile. Stressed and alone she might have been, but she definitely sounds like a Queen. The power in her words resonate throughout the throne room. I bow my head further as I sink to one knee at the foot of the dais. "Where have you come from, traveller?" Well, here goes nothing.

"I have come from the End of the World," I say quietly, smiling a little at the soft gasp I hear as she recognises my voice. "From the River of Dreams, through the gauntlet and the Briars and the Deep Wyld, in order to stand before you today. I have but one request – to take my place at your side. To resume my duty as your knight, and to protect you and your kingdom for as long as I draw breath." I raise my head and lower the cowl, taking in the beautiful girl in front of me. The shock on her face as I kneel before her. "I am still yours, my Queen. If you'll have me." I watch her, taking her in as she slowly stands from her throne, her eyes trailing over me, taking in the dust covered cloak, the glamour that still pulses inside me. I don't move, letting her come to me.

"Ash," she whispers, reaching down to help me to my feet. The feel of her hand in mine brings an overwhelming sense of relief. She's here. In front of me. Alive and well. I can no longer see the other fey in the throne room, or the guards standing at the walls. All I see, is her.

"You're here," she whispers, her hand ghosting over my face. "You came back." Those three words hit me like a punch in the gut and I suck in a breath. After our last encounter, when Ariella interrupted and staked her claim on me, Meghan honestly believed I would choose Ariella. She thought she'd never see me again, even if she revoked her order to me, even if I accomplished my mission. My heart aches for her. How she's made it through all this time, thinking I'd chosen someone else, I honestly don't know. I knew I was going to find a way to come back to her and these last long months have been torture. I place my hand over hers, holding it in place.

"I came home." She steps forward, wrapping her arms around me and I pull her in close. I breathe in the pure scent of Meghan, of roses and honeysuckle and long summer days. I've missed her. I've missed her so damn much. How did I survive without her? Those long years after Ariella 'died' pass through my mind. Long, bleak, cold days until the whirlwind that is Meghan Chase entered my life and turned it upside down. Applause and cheers echo off the wall off the throne room as I make myself a silent promise. _I'm never leaving you again. Not if I can help it. I never want to go through this again._ After a few moments, she pulls back to look at me again.

"How?" She asks and I smile at her.

"I told you I'd find a way, didn't I?" I tell her, chuckling at the look of disbelief that crosses her face. I take her hand, moving it to rest over my heart. My now _human_ heart. "I became human. I went to the ends of the Nevernever and found my soul."

"What?" She pulls back a little more, gazing over my body in disbelief. I take the moment to take her in myself. The circles under her eyes, the small amount of weight she's lost since the last time I saw her. Hmm – things are going to change around here. Starting with how much the Iron Queen is working. I lean in a little closer to her to whisper,

"Do I pass?"

"Wait a minute," she says, frowning. She pushes back my hair, revealing a pointy, fey ear. Definitely not the mark of a human. "If you're human, how do you explain that?" I grin at her. I've missed her constant questioning.

"Apparently, I still have a little fey magic left in me," I tell her, running my fingers through her hair, reminding myself of its softness, before stroking her cheek with my thumb, marvelling at her even as I speak. "Enough to keep up with the rest of Faery anyway. Maybe enough to keep from growing old." I can't help but laugh at the idea, as I remember the last trial of the gauntlet. At how I might have found a way to cheat the future I saw of myself. "Better get used to this face, your majesty. I plan to be here a long, long time. Probably forever." Her blue eyes shimmer with unshed tears and the only reason I know they're tears of happiness is the pulse of glamour that radiates from her. I expect her to say a lot of things after that, but

"Aren't you already centuries old?" isn't one of them. I lower my head to hers, pulling us closer together with a smile.

"I went to the End of the World for you, and all you have to say is how well I've aged?" I've never felt like this before. Light, as if the weight of the title of Prince of Winter has been lifted and with it, a sense of relief. And, it seems, a more open sense of humour.

"I didn't say anything about aging well-" Meghan replies with a grin that lights up her whole face. I don't let her finish her sentence as I lower my head those last few inches and press my lips to hers. It doesn't take her long to kiss me back and I smile against her. This. This moment, right here, amidst the cheers of our court, make all the trials and the nightmares worth it.

Meghan Chase. The half human Summer princess, who took on two Iron Kings, defied both the Summer and Winter courts and became the Queen of the Iron Court. The girl who thawed a Winter prince's heart, and brought two friends back together. We break apart and I rest my forehead against hers.

Yes. Meghan Chase is worth all of it.

* * *

 **Yes, our second deleted scene is of course from the epilogue of the Iron Knight. I hope you guys like it. There are 3 more deleted scenes to come in this fic and the dialogue in these won't be from the books, it will be my own, and they all take place after this chapter. Let me know what you guys think - we're almost done you guys! xxx**


	22. Deleted Scene 3

**When Two Becomes Three**

The sound of footsteps running across the floor pulls me from sleep. I blink blearily in the darkness, willing my mind to catch up to my body. I reach my hand out to the still warm but now empty mattress where Meghan should be. Before I can call her name, the sound of her throwing up in the bathroom propels me to my feet. I walk through the darkness towards the bathroom, unable to stop myself from yawning. At eight months pregnant, both Meghan and I had thought the sickness would have stopped. It seems our child has other ideas. I find Meghan leaning against the bathtub, groaning softly. I bend down next to her, brushing her hair off of her face.

"Are you alright, Meghan?" I ask softly. She sighs.

"I'm fine. I'll be better once this baby deigns to arrive. I thought morning sickness was supposed to be just that. Sickness in the morning. Not morning, noon and night. This is ridiculous." I wrap an arm around her, pulling her close.

"Not long now, love. And this is the first time tonight." She chuckles weakly.

"It's really sad that the fact I've only thrown up once tonight is cause for celebration, don't you think?" I laugh in return.

"Are you finished?" I ask her and she nods. I take her hands and help her up, pulling her close so I can kiss her forehead. "I love you," I murmur softly, smiling when her arms wind around my waist, squeezing tightly.

"I love you too, Ash." I know she's about to say something else, when a yawn of her own takes over, and I chuckle.

"Come on. Back to bed. You've got a busy day tomorrow." She groans as we make our way back to bed.

"You'd think being eight months pregnant would entitle you to a reduced workload." I smile as I help her settle on her back, drawing the covers over her, my hand rubbing the bump gently as I do so.

"Perhaps it would, if you weren't Queen of the Iron Kingdom, and Mab wasn't gunning for your head on a silver platter."

"Eugh. I thought we'd agreed, no mention of evil mother in laws in the bedroom." I laugh as I settle in on the other side, resting my arm gently over her.

"I apologise, my Queen." She squeezes my hand gently and I listen as her breathing evens out as she falls asleep. I stay awake for a while longer, marvelling at the bump underneath me and I listen as her breathing evens out as she falls asleep. I stay awake for a while longer, marvelling at the bump underneath my hand; at the being inside of it that will soon come into our world. I never thought I would be a father. I could never bring a child into the Winter Court and its politics. A child that is pure and innocent should never have to grow up in a court of backstabbing and dangerous promises. In truth, I've never been able to see myself as a father. As reckless as I was before I met Ariella, following Puck into every stupid, reckless situation we could possibly find and then how broken I was after I lost Ariella, I don't think I would have made suitable father material for any child. But now…now, I can't imagine my life where Meghan and our unborn child are not here. I relax against my own pillows, my breathing matching Meghan's and I feel myself start to drift back into the depths of sleep, my hand still resting on the bump of Meghan's stomach.

* * *

"Ash," Meghan's voice is soft enough to slip into my dreams, and I feel my lips turn into a smile, even as I bury my head further into my pillow. She laughs and I can't help but think that Meghan's laugh is my favourite sound in the world.  
"Ash, come on." She says, shaking my arm gently. I groan as I fully surface from sleep. "Honestly, you are the absolute worst person to wake up in the morning, do you know that?" Instead of answering her, I wrap my arm more firmly around her and pull her closer to me, smiling as she shrieks at the sudden movement. I lift my head from the pillow to kiss her gently on the lips.

"Five more minutes Meghan. We've earned five more minutes in bed, don't you think?" I plead, in between kisses. There's that laugh again, making my stomach twist a little, even as she gently pushes away from me.

"You're just saying that because you don't want to see your mother, today."

"I never want to see my mother, my Queen. And I thought the rule about evil mother in laws being mentioned in the bedroom, applied to evil mothers as well."

"You're right, it does. Unfortunately, that rule doesn't apply when we have to meet with said mother in law this evening. Or when your son or daughter is desperately letting me know that it's time for breakfast." As if the baby knows we're talking about it, a sharp kick hits my arm. Meghan winces before giving me one last kiss and getting out of bed. I turn onto my back to watch as she goes over to the wardrobe in the corner of the room, sorting through the vast array of clothes. After a couple of minutes, she pulls out a floor length gown of silver that shimmers in the weak morning sunlight and holds it up for me to see.

"What do you think about this one?" She asks, holding it against her body.

"I think you'll look beautiful no matter what you wear tonight," I tell her. She rolls her eyes.

"You have to say that," she says and I grin at her.

"If you know that, then why ask for my opinion?" She shrugs, laying the dress gently over the chair of the dresser.

"Because, when your wife is the size of a beached whale, she needs someone to lie to her and tell her she won't look like a fat turkey at Thanksgiving in the gown she wants to wear." She turns back to the wardrobe, pulling out a pair of jeans and a loose fitting top. Before she can turn around, I walk over to her, wrapping my arms around her and rest my chin on her shoulder, making her jump.

"You look beautiful no matter what you wear Meghan. I'm not only saying it because I'm your husband and I'm not stupid enough to tell my wife anything different," I laugh when she hits my arm. "I'm telling you it because it's the truth. You will be the most beautiful person in that room tonight – even more so because you're carrying our child." I stiffen for a moment when a drop of water hits my bare arm, before relaxing again and turning her round, so I can see her. Tears slowly roll down her cheeks, flushed with embarrassment. She wipes them away angrily.

"Stupid hormones," she grumbles, as fresh tears replace the ones she's just wiped away. I pull her to me, her tears running down my bare chest as I run my fingers through her hair, gently working out the knots and tangles that have appeared overnight. We stay like that for a while, the sounds of the palace waking around us, the only reminder of where we are. Of who we are. I'm pretty sure we'd have stayed there longer if a quiet knock on the door doesn't break the peaceful silence of the room.

"Your Majesty?" Glitch asks. We pull apart reluctantly, and I gently bring one hand up to wipe away the few tears that remain on her face, before kissing her gently.

"I love you, my Queen." I whisper, resting my forehead on hers.

"I love you too, Ash," she whispers back, before Glitch knocks again, louder this time. I roll my eyes as Meghan lets go of me and opens the door.

"Good morning Glitch," she says with a smile.

"Meghan," he nods at her. "Snowflake," he says, nodding at me.

"Socket head," I say brightly, laying an arm around Meghan's shoulders. "To what do we owe the pleasure of seeing your metal head this morning?" Meghan elbows me in the side, though she's giggling as she does. Glitch simply glares at me.

"I was just coming to inform Meghan that some papers regarding some…changes to the Treaty have just arrived from Summer and Winter for you to look over before the banquet tonight." Meghan groans and rests her head on me.

"What changes?" She whines. Glitch and I share a smirk.

"Now that, is for you to find out when you read the papers, Your Majesty," Glitch says, jumping out of the way as Meghan makes to hit him. "Loving the nightwear by the way," he says, his smirk widening to a grin.

"Don't you have drills to run?" Meghan says coldly, crossing her arms over her baby bump protectively.

"Aw come one Meghan, I'm just teasing," Glitch says.

"If I were you, I'd do as your Queen says, Glitch," I advise him. He opens his mouth to say something else, but shuts it abruptly at the glare I send his way.

"You got it." He mutters, before heading back down the hall. I shut the bedroom door and pull Meghan back in for a hug.

"I hate wearing these things," she mumbles, picking at her cotton maternity shirt and shorts that she got from the human world when she first found out she was pregnant. I kiss the top of her head, rubbing her back in what I hope is soothing.

"You look fine Meghan. Your nightwear is made so that you and the baby are comfortable, not to be admired by smart mouth lieutenants who don't know when to keep said mouth shut. Besides, I like you in them." She rolls her eyes at me, picking up the jeans and top she'd left on top of her dress when Glitch knocked at the door.

"Now I know you're lying," she says, although there's a light back in her eyes as she smiles at me before disappearing into the bathroom.

"I'm not," I say, pulling a shirt on myself. "I think you look cute in them." Behind me, the door opens and I laugh as my coat hits my back before falling to the floor in a heap.

"You should know that it's not nice to tease Your Queen. Especially when she's carrying your child. Who is, coincidentally, hungrier now than they were before." I tug my coat on before tucking Meghan into my side and heading out of the room.

"Well then, we better get you two some breakfast, before you start eating me." She laughs before moving on to whatever gossip she'd heard from the maids yesterday as we head into the dining room and take our seats, nodding at the knights and sentries that are eating their own breakfast who stand at our entrance. I pull Meghan's chair out and help her in before taking my own seat next to her. She presses a light kiss to my cheek and says,

"Ever the gentleman."

"Well, I aim to please." I reply, smiling as she digs in to the spread in front of us. I learned early on in the pregnancy, not to get in between Meghan and food. It's wiser to let her get her fill and then move in when she's finished. Goodfellow, apparently, didn't get that message when we met him in the Summer Court a few months in to the pregnancy. We had a picnic in the grounds and Puck almost lost a finger when he tried to get to the sandwiches before Meghan. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard as I did that day. Halfway through breakfast, an excited blur of fur races through a side door, nearly mowing down several knights and colliding with my leg. I laugh as I pet the monstrous dog that is just as much a part of my family as Meghan and the baby.

"Whoa there Beau," I say, as the dog rests his head on my leg, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. "We've talked about this, remember? You're going to have to put on the brakes when the baby comes."

"Stupid dog," Meghan says fondly, reaching over me to pet her dog as well, which makes his tail thump against the wood floor in a steady rhythm. I catch Beau's eyes focusing on the edge of my plate.

"No. That's my breakfast," I tell him, knowing he can smell the meat in the air. Beau stares at me and, despite my best intentions, I end up handing him a small piece of sausage from my plate. He gulps it down in one go before staring at me hopefully once more. Meghan laughs and rests her head on my shoulder lightly.

"Now look what you've started. Just imagine what Mab would say if she saw you, her youngest son, born and raised in the Winter Court, giving in to a dog." I roll my eyes at her teasing.

"On that note, you can take your dog with you. I need to go and hand Glitch's ass to him," I tell her with a grin, leaning over to press a gentle kiss on her lips, my hand finding its way once more to her bump. "Look after your mother for me while I'm gone, okay?" I whisper to it, before standing and heading down to the court yard to spar with Glitch for a while.

* * *

By the time the sun is starting to sink in the sky, I've successfully beaten all of the knights in the top squad. It's always fun to spar with this group – at least they provide some sort of challenge. The younger guards that are recruited from the village, generally have little to no training with swords and weapons, meaning I spend most of my time teaching them how to hold a sword properly, rather than actually sparring with them.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for tonight?" Glitch says, from his position next to me. We're both leaning against one of the gnarled trees, speckled with iron veins that surround the courtyard, watching the group spar against each other, the sound of swords clashing together filling the air. I glare at the slowly setting sun, willing it to stop moving. But, unfortunately, I haven't yet mastered the ability to stop time. Somehow, I don't think I'm ever going to master that one.

"Probably," I reply, refocusing my gaze on the sparring knights. Glitch smirks. I know he's aware of both mine and Meghan's feelings about meeting with Mab and Oberon at any time.

"You know, I can watch these lot while you go," he says innocently. I glare at him, which only makes him laugh. "Aw, come on Highness, I'm only trying to ease the tension. I can practically hear you worrying about tonight." I shake my head absently, resting it against the tree trunk.

"I just don't understand why they want to meet now." I mutter. It's something that has plagued me since our emissary brought us notice of the dinner a month ago. "The amendments to the Treaty can be signed and sent back from here, there's no reason for them to need to see Meghan." Glitch sighs, and I know that for all his teasing, it's an issue that's worried all of us who have sworn to protect Meghan.

"Perhaps this is their way of seeing how the pregnancy is progressing. Mab's outburst alone at the announcement was…destructive." Destructive is putting it mildly. A snow storm that kept most of the inhabitants of Tir Na Nog in their homes or in the inns in the town for a whole week swept the court when Mab found out. According to Puck, Titania wasn't much better. Thunder and lightning storms could be heard from miles around Arcadia for days. This is why I'm more nervous than usual about going home. Not just because my home is cut throat at the best of times; but because Meghan is distinctly more vulnerable now than ever before.

She'd kill me if she heard me say that, even if it is true.

"Why though? A pregnancy is a pregnancy, even for fey. Seven months ago, we told the courts we were expecting. If anything had changed since then, they'd also have heard about it." I rake a hand through my hair in frustration. "I don't like it. I don't trust Mab not to have planned something."

"Which is why we're all going to be on the lookout tonight." Glitch says firmly. "You watch your wife; we'll keep an eye on the Queens." I nod at him before resigning myself to my fate and pushing away from the tree.

"Keep them sparring for another five minutes, then call it a day. You still have to prepare the guards joining us tonight." Glitch nods at me once before turning his attention back to the knights, and I walk back to the palace to get changed. Whatever Mab and Titania have planned, it's going to be a long night of politics, there's no doubt about that.

* * *

Despite leaving the courtyard late, I'm still ready before Meghan. I lean against the stone column outside of our bedroom, waiting for her to be deemed ready for royalty. I know she hates these meetings as much as I do. Though when the door finally opens, I remember why I put up with them.

Even eight months pregnant, Meghan looks stunning. The dress she picked out this morning hugs her curves, falling over her bump in a way that doesn't accent the fact that she's pregnant, but doesn't hide it either. The gown sparkles as she moves, the dark silver fabric glimmering with copper with every step she takes. Excess material pools around her feet like liquid metal. Her long golden hair has been curled and pinned back from her face with matching copper combs. She looks stunning.

"Hey," she says with a soft smile. I push off of the column and bow, smiling at the blush that flushes her cheeks, before taking her hand and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.

"You look beautiful, my Queen," I tell her.

"You have to say that, you're my husband and my knight. I'm pretty sure it was in your vows to tell your wife she looks beautiful, even when she's convinced she looks like a beached whale." I roll my eyes at her.

"That may be true, but some things from when I was a full fey have passed over. I wouldn't lie to you Meghan. You know that." She averts her eyes from mine, staring at the floor instead of looking at me.

"I know you wouldn't Ash. I guess it's just hard to see why you'd find this," she gestures to her body, "attractive." I pull her close, wrapping my arms around her. Ever since I've known Meghan, she's had a hang up on how she looks, especially compared to Mab and Titania. She doesn't see what I do. That hers is a natural beauty, a beauty on the inside as well as on the outside which the fey, especially the fey Queens, are severely lacking. She is more beautiful than any of them and yet, deep down I know that it doesn't matter how many times I tell her that, she won't believe me. it's endearing and infuriating in equal measures.

"Meghan. You are my Queen and my wife and the mother of our child. The first time I saw you racing through the woods on Goodfellow's back, I thought you were pretty. When I danced with you at Elysium, I thought you were beautiful and by the time we reached Machina's tower, all I could think about was how I would be able to see you when you returned to the human world. This," I rest my hand on the bump, smiling as the baby gives a kick of encouragement, "is the product of that love Meghan. Our child, is here because I love you and, because I think you're beautiful when you're dressed like the Queen that you are and when you're lying in bed in your pyjamas. Never, ever doubt that for a moment."

"You big softie," she mumbles.

"For you, my Queen, always."

"Come on you," she says, resting her arm on mine. "The sooner we go, the sooner we can get back. Just out of curiosity, you haven't stashed any snacks in your pockets have you?" I laugh but pull out a bag of cookies made by the kitchens this morning. "This is why I married you," Meghan says, making grabby hands at the bag as we walk down the hall, pouting a little when I hold it out of reach.

"You can have some in the carriage, otherwise, you'll eat them all now and complain when they're all gone." The pout deepens. "I know you too well my Queen."

"Fine," she huffs. The guards lining the hall, and stationed by the door bow as we pass them and head to where the carriage is waiting. I help Meghan in and close the door after us, smiling when Meghan automatically leans against my side. I wrap my arm around her shoulder, shifting slightly to try and help her get comfortable.

"I really don't want to do this," Meghan grumbles, as the carriage moves off. I rub her shoulder gently. There aren't any words I can say to help. Despite everything, we do have to go. Short of Meghan going into labour, we have to show up to this dinner. Or risk war. Neither of us want to go, especially so close to the baby coming, but we both know that we don't have a choice. We are a court of our own right, but Summer and Winter are older and hold more power over us, despite our ability to kill them with one swipe of a blade. It's better to humour them than to remind them of that fact though.

"A few hours love and then we'll be home," I murmur, though we both know it's a lie. A few hours of political talk is…optimistic. It's more likely that we'll be here late and, by the time we leave, both of our stress levels will be through the roof. Which is less than ideal. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced this is Mab's way of setting us up. I shudder to think of what will happen if Meghan keeps to her nightly routine of throwing up – although the image of Mab covered in vomit does make me grin. I file it away for later.

"I know. At least Puck will be there. That will make things a little more bearable. Still, a whole night of talking about the Treaty with Mab and Oberon. There are so many other things I'd rather spend my night doing."

"Oh? What kind of things?" She elbows me lightly in the ribs.

"Not the kind of things you're thinking of." I grin at her. "A bath sounds nice," she continues. "maybe a massage…" I roll my eyes, though I don't mean it.

"When we get home, if you're still conscious," she blushes at the reminder of her current ability to fall asleep anywhere at the drop of a hat, "then I will give you a massage. After tonight, I think you'll have earned it."

"I'm going to hold you to that," she says. We fall into silence and Meghan, true to form, falls asleep not long after, leaving me to watch as our court falls away and the Wyldwood replaces it. It's comforting, coming through these woods, even now. The Iron Court is my home now, more so than Tir Na Nog ever was, and, despite my initial reservations about the place, I couldn't imagine starting a family anywhere else. But these woods used to be my playground. My hiding place when life at court got too much for me to handle. I take comfort in watching the woods go past, imagining what my life will be like soon. Taking my son or daughter out into these woods, teaching them how to ride a horse, how to hunt. I smile at the idea. A family. I'm going to have a family. My gaze drifts from the window to Meghan's sleeping face and then down to her baby bump.

"I promise you," I whisper to the baby, pushing aside how stupid I feel talking to a baby bump. "I promise you that you will be loved and cared for. You will know just how much you mean to both of us. You will never be pushed aside, or forced to compete for affection. You will be brought up as your mother was, not how I was."

* * *

Sooner than I would like, the spires of Tir Na Nog come into view, and ice chills my veins at the sight of my old home. I truly hate coming back here, for any length of time. I gently shake Meghan awake, smiling as she blinks up at me blearily. Her eyes widen a little when she realises we're already at the Winter Court.

"Wow – I slept the whole way?" She asks. I nod, brushing back a stray curl from her cheek. She sighs and pats her stomach gently. "Well, maybe I'll be able to stay awake for this torture." I don't reply, my gaze finding the Winter palace once more. I'm distracted from my brooding by Meghan's hand, chill from the cold air filtering through the carriage, being placed against my cheek. I turn to look at her in surprise.

"You don't have to worry," she says quietly. "You are not their puppet anymore. You don't answer to them and they have no control over you. You are a thousand times better than any of the Unseelie could ever dream to be." I turn my head slightly and press a kiss against her palm in thanks. Even now, I hate that the mere sight of my old Court instills a childlike fear in me. A weakness that if anyone out there saw, could and would be exploited for others amusement. These last few moments are usually spent like this, both Meghan and I taking comfort in each other before facing the cruel Unseelie.

We pull up before the doors of the Palace to an…unexpected…welcoming party. I jump out of the carriage, laughing when Meghan calls me a show off, before helping her out as well.

"Wow, Princess, you're huge." I roll my eyes at the irritatingly chipper voice coming from behind me.

"Shouldn't you be playing ladies maid to Oberon Goodfellow?" I drawl, turning to face the red head, who puts his hand to his heart in mock horror.

"You wound me ice-boy, you wound me."

"It'd take more than a few words to wound you Goodfellow. I would know, I've been trying for centuries."

"Have you heard this?" Puck says to Meghan, who is giggling at my side. "Will you please control your husband?" Meghan laughs and even I let out a reluctant chuckle.

"Hey Puck," Meghan says, a little breathlessly. Puck's face softens a little.

"Hey Princess. How's it hanging?"

"I thought I told you never to go street." She says with a smile.

"You did tell me that. I chose to ignore you." He pulls Meghan into a gentle hug. "How's Robin junior here?" He asks, nodding towards the baby bump when they pull apart.

"One, the baby is fine. Enjoying using me as it's personal punching bag, but is fine. Two, I love you to pieces Puck, but I am not naming my child after you." Meghan says, rubbing her stomach absently.

"Why not? I think Robin's an excellent name for a child."

"Maybe for a normal child," Meghan retorts. "But I'd rather not call down bad luck on my child just yet. And having you as it's namesake would do just that."

"You know what ice-boy, I think I preferred your cruel words. Will you control your wife?" Meghan laughs again and links her arms with me and Puck as we head towards the ball room where the meal will be held.

"So," Meghan asks after a moment. "How are they?" Puck shudders dramatically at the mention of the other fey rulers.

"Let's just say that, while I am glad to see you Princess, they well…aren't." She sighs warily.

"Do I even want to know what I've done wrong now?" Puck uses his free hand to rake through his hair.

"You mean aside from becoming Queen of a court that, in their eyes, shouldn't exist? Besides marrying the sole heir of the Winter Court throne? Besides having a child that carries magic from all three courts?" Meghan snorts.

"Oh, so just the usual then?"

"Pretty much Princess."

"Yipee." She mutters. We stop just outside the ornate doors leading to the ball room, Puck kissing Meghan's cheek quickly and mumbling that he'd see us in there before disappearing down the corridor and through another door.

"You ready for this?" She asks me.

"If you are," I reply. She nods once, and that seems to give her the courage she needs. She straightens a little, holding her head high, the power of the Iron Queen radiates off of her. This is not the image of a pregnant woman. This is the image of the most powerful Queen to ever step foot in the Nevernever. The doors open as the herald announces us, his voice carrying easily over the quiet chatter filling the room.

"Her majesty Meghan Chase, monarch of Mag Tuiredh, sovereign of the Iron territories and Queen of the Iron Fey and her husband Ash, Knight of the Iron Realm and the Iron Queen." The herald nods at us and we head in to the ballroom together, hands joined, united.

"Ash," Mab purrs from her seat at the long table. "It is so good to see you here, in your home."

"My home is in Mag Tuiredh, Lady Mab," I reply coldly. "Not here."

"Of course, of course," she waves away my words with her hand. I know she couldn't care less.

"And Meghan Chase," she says, her eyes running over Meghan like she's still a human. Not a Queen of a powerful realm.

"Lady Mab," Meghan says, before gretting her father and step mother. Oberon nods at his daughter, as he always does at these events, but Titania simply looks away, beckoning a servant to come and fill her goblet with more wine. I bite back a growl at the display.

"Don't you look…" Mab says, before trailing off and gesturing to Meghan, who narrows her eyes at the Queen.

"Pregnant? Well, I'd hope so Lady Mab. Eight months in, I'd hope you'd be able to tell." I can see the glimmer of anger in Mab's eyes and she opens her mouth to say something cutting. And treasonous.

"Might I remind you, Lady, that you are speaking to the Queen of the Iron Realm. I would suggest thinking carefully about your next words, lest they be taken in the wrong way." I say firmly. The ballroom is silent as Mab turns her attention to me. No one moves for several heartbeats, before Mab nods once and turns to Oberon. I let out a small breath, quiet enough that no one other than Meghan could hear it. I follow her to the table, where two servants pull our chairs out and fill our goblets with water.

"Do I need to test this for poison," I ask one quietly. The girl trembles under my gaze.

"No, Your Highness, of course not." I nod, dismissing her, before quickly taking a sip of Meghan's water, just to be safe. She raises an eyebrow at me as I pass her goblet back to her.

"Is the water up to your high standards?" She whispers. I know that she still hasn't got used to people checking what she's eating and drinking yet. Maybe she never will.

"It's fine," I say with a grin. Puck appears behind us.

"Well you certainly know how to make an entrance ice-boy," he says.

"What do you want, Goodfellow?" I ask, taking a warm bread roll from the basket in front of us and putting it on Meghan's plate, staring at it until she rolls her eyes and cuts into it.

"Again with the unnecessary cruel words prince. You're always more interesting to talk to at these stuffy things than the old farts down there." Meghan chokes on her bread. Puck pats her on the back until it subsides and I push the goblet of water closer to her.

"Easy princess. I know I'm good looking but you don't have to literally fall at my feet to get my attention."

"Jerk," she rasps as she takes deep breaths to try and calm herself down.

"Seriously though prince, I thought the whole point of this was to calm the royals down, not get them all worked up."

"Plans change Goodfellow. You, of all people should know that."

"You got me there." He shrugs. Behind me, the doors open once more, revealing a line of servants carrying platters of food. "Looks like that's my cue to leave for a bit. Enjoy your meal," he says, bowing grandly before stepping off the dais and heading into the shadows of the room. The platters are placed along the table, and lifted off in one go, revealing numerous steaming plates of food. Roast venison, steamed fish from the icy mountains in the north and plenty of vegetables harvested from the south. Only the best.

"Enjoy," is all Mab says, although the smug tone of her voice tells me all I need to know about her current mood. We are the first to start eating, the fey seated on tables below us watching as we serve ourselves and begin eating, before tucking in themselves. It's always the most awkward part of a meal like this; having everyone else watching you eat. It never gets any better. Meghan starts talking to Oberon about the Treaty and I tune out a little. It doesn't concern me unless someone tries to attack Meghan. She'll give me and Glitch the condensed version tomorrow anyway. I finish my food, and occasionally nudge Meghan to remind her that she's eating for two and that finishing the food on her plate is more important than playing nice with her father. It's not until the plates have been cleared away that the conversation beside me takes a turn for the worse.

"No." Meghan says firmly.

"You dare to refuse-" Titania screeches from her place beside Oberon.

"Yes. I do dare to refuse to sign it. I am not sacrificing anything else just because you are being petty."

"Petty? Petty? The safety of our court is **not** petty! Although, I don't expect an ignorant half breed, masquerading as a Queen would know anything about putting the well-being of her people first." Titania sneers. Puck and I stare at each other for a moment, each of us knowing that a fight is about to break out if someone doesn't step in.

"Excuse me?" Meghan says. I mentally shake my head. Honestly, Mab, Oberon and Titania are centuries old. You would think that someone would have told them not to engage a heavily pregnant woman in a fight. Because the pregnant woman will win. I learnt that within the first month of this pregnancy. I quickly stand and place my hand on Meghan's arm, diverting her attention from the Summer Queen.

"Can I have this dance?" I ask softly, silently begging her to let this go. To be the bigger person and walk away. After a tense moment, Meghan nods and takes my hand. As we walk onto the dance floor, I nod at Puck, who has moved over to the band, and a moment later, a familiar tune drifts into the room. Meghan smiles softly as she recognises the song.

"You really are a big softie; you know that?" She says as we start turning in a small circle.

"I thought you'd appreciate the sentiment." I reply.

"The first time we danced to this, I remember there only being two of us." We both look down to the bump, separating us slightly.

"Yes, we definitely didn't have a third party. But, you know what? I think the third party makes it better." It's official. Meghan's right. How anyone is still scared of me now that that statement has left my mouth is completely beyond me. I think I need to go on a hunting trip. Soon.

"I think so to," Meghan says, resting her head against me as we slowly dance to the music.

"Do I want to know what that was about?" I ask after a moment. Meghan sighs.

"You know what? You really don't." I open my mouth to push her on it when she gasps. We stop in the middle of the dance floor and I pull away to look at her properly.

"Meghan?"

"Oh you have got to be kidding me. Now?" She mutters. She stares at the baby bump before continuing. "Seriously? You pick now, a month early, to come? Are you kidding me?" Her words are slow to sink in, but when they do I let out a quiet curse. I look around the hall, trying to find Goodfellow or Glitch. I find Puck first and motion for him to come over. He does. Slowly. The words that run through my head as I glare at him are not particularly pleasant.

"What's up ice-boy? Have you given up on trying to make everyone vomit?" Before I can snap a reply, Meghan lets out a groan. Both of us turn to her so fast, I'm surprised we don't break our necks. To his credit, Puck realises what's going on faster than I did.

"Now?" Is all he asks.

"Now." I say, wrapping my arm around Meghan. "Get a healer. And find Glitch, let him know that the baby is coming."

"Where are you going to take her?" He asks.

"My old room. Somehow, I don't think we're going to make it back home."

"And if you think I am giving birth in the back of a carriage in the middle of the Wyld Wood, you are both mistaken!" Meghan interrupts.

"And on that note…" Puck says as we head towards the doors.

"Meghan Chase!" A voice cold enough to form icicles echoes around the room. All three of us freeze.

"Watch her try to stop me from leaving," Meghan mutters. "Seriously, watch her try." Meghan turns slowly to face Mab.

"Where do you think you are going? The evening is not over yet."

"I'm afraid it is for us Lady Mab." Meghan says. I'm impressed with how calm and steady her voice is. Considering her previous words. "I'm afraid my waters have just broken. The baby is coming and I'm you'll appreciate I don't particularly want to give you all a show right in this moment. So we are leaving. And you are not going to stop us." Lightning flickers overhead, enough so that the fey seated around the edge of the room back away uneasily.

"Easy princess. Let's not incinerate everyone here, okay?" Meghan just nods, turns on her heel and walks out. As soon as the doors close on the stunned royalty, Meghan lets out another groan.

"Oh, God. Okay. Remind me where your room is again." She says.

"Will you be okay if I go and get the healer?" Puck says, looking torn.

"We'll be fine. Go get the healer." He nods to himself before running off down the hall.

"Right. Come on. I guess we're having a baby." I say with forced confidence.

"Well I'm glad one of us is completely calm about this," Meghan says as we move slowly down the hall. "Because, honestly, I'm freaking out." I kiss the top of her head.

"Honestly? I'm freaking out as well. I'm just not sure it's a good idea for us both to externally freak out."

"Always the gentleman."

"Well, I figure you're doing all the hard work, you deserve to be able to freak out about this."

"Damn right," Meghan mutters and I chuckle nervously.

* * *

"You're almost there, Your Majesty! One more push!" The healer says. Meghan's head falls back heavily on to the pillow with a groan.

"You said it was one more push twenty minutes ago. Forgive me if I don't believe you."

"Now Meghan," I begin.

"Don't you 'now Meghan' me." She snaps. "All I want is to know if I'm going to have to push ten more times or one more time. That's all. I honestly don't even care right now – just don't lie to me to make me feel better!" I offer an apologetic look to the healer, who shrugs off her words.

"Don't worry. It happens all the time," she says. "This time, Your Highness, you just need one more push and then your child will be here."

"Okay," Meghan pants. "Okay. One more. Just one more."

"One more," I repeat, squeezing her hand gently. "You've done so well Meghan." She takes a deep breath and squeezes my hand hard enough to at least bruise, if not fracture my hand and, a moment later, a loud cry fills the air, joined with the announcement of,

"Congratulations, you have a son!" Meghan and I look at each other, her curls stuck to her cheeks with sweat, her face flushed but her smile is breath taking.

"A boy," she breathes. "We have a son," she says. I can't do anything except smile at her. The healer comes round to the other side of the bed, carrying a bundle of blue blankets.

"Do you want to hold him?" She asks Meghan, who nods in amazement as the bundle is placed gently into her arms.

"Hi," she says quietly, gazing down. "Hi there." I lean over to look down as well. His eyes are squeezed shut and he has a fine layer of blonde hair on his head. Meghan looks at me again. "You certainly know how to make an entrance," Meghan murmurs to the baby. "Although, you probably saved me from starting a war with your grandparents."

"There's no probably about it, my Queen. He did save you from starting a war." Meghan just nods good naturedly.

"At least I can blame it on hormones." Outside, the clanging of metal gains our attention. "Why don't you go and show them?" She asks. My nerves must show on my face because she says, "it's fine Ash. You won't drop him." Hesitantly, I take the baby in my arms, taking a moment to make sure he's comfortable, and that I'm sure I'm not going to drop him, before I carefully stand and head to the door. Puck and Glitch and the knights outside stand when I come out.

"I'd like you all to meet the newest member of the Iron Court," I say softly, my gaze never leaving my son's face. "Our son. Kierran." Puck leans over.

"Well, he certainly looks like trouble," he says with a grin.

"I don't care," I reply, gently rocking the tiny baby in my arms.

"Congrats Ash. You deserve it. You both do." Puck says. I tear my gaze from my son to share a smile with Puck, before saying the words that I never imagined I would ever say to Puck.

"Thank you."

* * *

 **Long time no see! I'm sorry for the delay but Camp NaNo took priority over this. But, here's a really long chapter for you. I hope you enjoy this scene, I had so much fun writing it! I hope it doesn't seem too rushed at the end - having no experience of pregnancy I didn't really feel comfortable writing it all out. Anyway, I should have another update soon so I'll see you then. Let me know what you think! xxx**


	23. Deleted Scene 4

**Finally Alone**

We kiss for a while, savouring each other in a way that we've never been able to before. My mind is still conflicted over what we've done. What I've done for her. A human. I can't go home now but, maybe, maybe that's a good thing. I pull away when Meghan shivers in my arm, my eyes trailing over the remains of her dress. The battle tore it to shreds and the rain has finished it off. I shrug my coat off and drape it over her bare shoulders, hoping it will help to warm her a little.

"What about you?" She asks, even as she pulls the coat tighter around her. I smile at her.

"I'm a Prince of Winter. I was built to withstand the cold." She rolls her eyes but smiles back.

"Alright show off. Mock the human all you want but we can't stay here all night. Not even you can withstand that." Ah. She has a point. Looking around, I recognise the back streets of New Orleans. We're no longer in the heart of the city, but on the rougher streets that lie on the outskirts.

"Lucky for us, I know a few people around here who owe me." Meghan nods and takes my hand, threading her fingers through mine and sending a shiver running through me at the nearness of her. We walk quickly through the rain, towards the light of the main street. My coat, as drenched as it is, isn't helping to keep her warm and with every shiver that comes from her, I quicken our pace, until I'm practically dragging Meghan behind me.

"Ash. Ash!" Meghan says with a laugh as she pulls us to a stop in the middle of the street. "If you pull me any more, you're going to pull my arm off. You can slow down a little you know, it's not a race." I look at her, her blonde hair turned dark by the rain and raindrops running down her cheeks like tears. She shivers again and I immediately pull her towards me, rubbing her arms gently to try and encourage warmth into her.

"I don't want you to fall ill." I tell her honestly, and her blue eyes soften at the words.

"Oh." She says quietly. "Well, in that case, lead the way." We set off once more, slower this time, so I can keep my arm around her.

"Why is it a surprise to you?" I ask after a moment. She raises an eyebrow at me.

"Why is what a surprise to me?" She asks.

"That I don't want you to fall ill? You seemed surprised that that was the reason I was dragging you through the rain." She shrugs.

"It just seems so…strange…to hear you say something like that."

"Why?" She laughs a little.

"Perhaps because from the moment we met, you've been denying falling in love with me. And doing everything possible to convince me, yourself and the rest of the Nevernever that that's the truth. I suppose I'm not used to you talking about your emotions."

"I've never denied falling in love with you…" I start, breaking off with an 'oomph' as Meghan elbows me in the chest. "Okay, perhaps I did to begin with…" I try again, letting her go as her elbow gets ready to hit me again. "Okay, okay, fine. I was in denial." I say with a laugh. "I was in denial that I was falling in love with you – are you happy now?"

"Very." Meghan says with a grin.

"You are going to be the death of me," I sigh, wrapping my arm around her once more, smiling when she presses closer to me.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" She asks after a moment of silence. "Or is it a surprise?"

"There's a human who owns a hotel near here that owes me a favour. He'll let us stay until we figure out what we're going to do."

"Do I want to know what he did that means he owes you a favour?" I cringe a little at the memory. Of blood flowing from the steps where the man knelt at Mab's feet, staining the floor crimson even as it froze in the frigid air. Of the screams that filled the air as his wife was brought before Mab and beaten brutally for denying Mab what was hers.

A child. The wife had made a deal with Mab when she was merely a girl, promising her firstborn to Mab in exchange for a way out of her abusive home. When the time came though and the woman realised she was pregnant, she got rid of it, not realising that Mab had her spies watching the woman. She brought the couple before her to answer for their crimes, though the man knew nothing of the baby. When his wife was dead, he was thrown in the dungeons. I retired to my room, my head ringing with his begging. In the dead of night, when the palace was quiet and still, I crept down to the dungeons to see him. He cowered when he saw me, but I opened the door wide, letting him out. I showed him the way out of Tir Na Nog in exchange for a favour of my choosing. He took it, though he was wary. The images from that night haunted me for a long time.

"No," I murmur to Meghan. "You don't want to know. Just know he'll be grateful that this is what I am choosing to ask of him." Now it's Meghan's turn to shudder. She knows all too well what other things I could have asked of the man.

* * *

I push the heavy wooden door open and let Meghan through first. It's a small, run down hotel on the edge of town. The lamps flicker by the desk and the carpet, which was once a deep red, has now been worn through. The man sitting behind the desk has aged since I last saw him. Back then, he was young, his hair the brown of the centuries old trees in the Wyldwood. Now, that same hair is more grey than brown and the youthful, naïve look in his eyes has been replaced with wariness and mistrust. He's certainly learnt since the last time I saw him. He's leant back in his chair, his feet propped on the desk as he reads a tattered book. He looks up when we walk in and his face instantly pales when he sees me. I don't think I've seen a human move as fast as he does as he hurriedly pushes his chair back and stands.

"Your Highness," he gasps.

"Ryan," I reply coolly, ignoring Meghan's jab to my side at the tone of my voice. "I've come to collect that favour you owe me." Ryan swallows hard, but his shoulders are set and he stands straighter.

"What do you want?" He asks, his voice surprisingly steady.

"I need a place to stay. And, since I knew you were in the area, I figured you wouldn't mind me and the Lady staying here for a while."

"A room? That's your favour?" He asks in disbelief.

"Yes. A change of clothes for the Lady would also be appreciated, but that should be all. Would you prefer me to ask for something different?"

"No. No, not at all. It's just…it's been thirty years, Your Highness. And after what happened all those years ago, I thought you'd ask for something…different than simply a room and some clothes." I raise an eyebrow at him, neither confirming nor denying what he thought. The truth is, I was never going to call in the debt. I had no need to, until now, and it was only luck that he lives here. I only made that deal to keep up appearances – and to keep Rowan off my back if he ever found out that it was me who let the human escape. Luckily, he never did. The silence stretches uncomfortably for a few minutes before Ryan grabs a key off the hook behind him and gestures for us to follow him up the dingy stairs to the first floor. He unlocks a door and gestures inside, where there's a large bed covered with a red knitted throw, a wooden wardrobe and a desk, sat underneath a large window overlooking the street. Ryan leans against the door frame as Meghan and I take in the room, before he clears his throat to get our attention.

"If the room's okay then I'll go and get you some fresh clothes," he says.

"Where from?" Meghan asks.

"There's a store just across the street. It's only cheap stuff, but it'll be warmer than what you're wearing."

"If you don't mind giving me the money, I'll run across and get something," Meghan says, smiling softly at Ryan. "You're already helping us out by giving us the room – you shouldn't have to get wet for us as well." Ryan smiles back at Meghan, but his gaze shifts to me and my apparent dislike of the plan.

"Errr…"

"Don't worry about him," Meghan says, waving a hand in my direction. "He gets grumpy when he's wet. Honestly, I'll go, I don't mind."

"Err, if you're sure," he says, slowly backing out of the room.

"Definitely." Meghan says. She turns to look at me. "Will you be alright here? I won't be long – ten minutes." I open my mouth to protest but, if I've learned anything when dealing with Meghan Chase, it's to not argue. It's honestly not worth the hassle it brings. So, instead I sigh and nod. She turns to follow Ryan back downstairs but I grab her arm and pull her back towards me.

"Ash-" I don't let her finish; kissing her gently. When we part, we're both a little breathless.

"Be careful," I say softly. She nods.

"I will. I won't be long." She reaches up and presses another quick kiss to my cheek. "Ten minutes," she says, before hurrying after Ryan, letting the door close behind her. I sigh and rake a hand through my hair, staring down at my hand when it comes away wet. I head in to the bathroom and grab a towel from the cupboard and dry my hair off as best I can. All that's left for me to do then, is to wait for Meghan to come back. Ten minutes isn't a long time. Yet it feels like an eternity. After a couple of minutes pacing to the window and back to the front door, I head back in to the bathroom and start running a bath. The rain is still pouring down outside and Meghan only has my soaked coat to keep her warm. I stand there, watching the steam curl up from the water and grin a little. It seems a very…human thing to do. Perhaps Meghan is rubbing off on me.

True to her word, five minutes later, I hear the door close and Meghan calling my name. I turn off the copper taps with a small wince before heading out to join Meghan. She drapes my jacket over the chair by the desk, once more revealing the tattered remains of her dress. She turns to face me with a smile.

"So I got you some things as well but I wasn't sure what size you were so, they might not fit." I smile at her.

"It's the thought that counts, right?" There's a pause before I say, "I…I ran you a bath. I thought it might warm you up a little." Her face lights up like someone has lit a candle behind her. She rummages through the bag, pulling out some clothes before crossing the room and wrapping her arms around me tightly.

"Will you be okay out here?" She asks, her voice muffled by my shirt. I chuckle at her words.

"Meghan, I have spent hundreds of years alone. I think I can survive you taking a bath." She blushes but kisses my cheek anyway before heading into the bathroom and closing the door. I pull out the clothes in the bag – thick trousers and a shirt similar to the ones I'm wearing now. I smile at them before changing, taking immense pleasure in the dry clothes. Once my wet clothes are hanging over the chair though, I'm left with nothing to do. I don't know how long Meghan will be and the thought that Meghan and I will be alone in this hotel finally settles in my mind. Alone. We haven't been alone like this since that ill-fated trip to rescue her brother, when the iron was poisoning me from the inside out. It was hardly romantic. My eyes drift across the room once more. The pale walls that look grimy in the dim lamplight and the worn carpet beneath my feet. I snort. On second thoughts, the tunnel where we'd taken refuge that night in the Iron Kingdom was starting to look distinctly more romantic than this place. I shake my head to clear the thought. I know that Meghan won't be thinking of that. After the last few days, I'm surprised she didn't collapse on the bed as soon as we came in to the room, she must be exhausted. I settle against the pillow, staring at myself in the slightly grubby mirror opposite. I would never have expected to give up my home, my title, everything I had, for a half human. And not just any half human, but the daughter of Oberon no less. And yet, even as I run through those last few moments in the clearing over and over in my head, I know in my heart that I couldn't have renounced my love for Meghan. I'd rather die than do that. Barely a season ago, I would have laughed at the very idea of giving up everything I know for the summer princess. And yet, here we are. In a grubby motel room, exiled from the Nevernever, and all I can think of is that we're finally alone. No more irritating Summer pranksters or fey rulers poking their nose into things that don't concern them.

The bathroom door opening once more, jolts me from my thoughts. My gaze moves from myself to the beautiful girl in front of me. Dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, her hair damp from the steam, drying in wavy tendrils. I'd be lying if I said my thoughts didn't start to trail down unspoken paths at the sight of her.

"That, was just what I needed," she says with a smile, as she walks round the bed to the other side. I move over a little, to give her some more room, tensing for a brief moment as she settles on the bed next to me, her head resting gently on my chest. I can't stop the thought that I should tell her to move, or that I should move myself, in case anyone sees, before I remind myself that everyone knows now, and there's no one here anyway. With that thought lodged firmly in my mind, I wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer to me, smiling a little as she snuggles closer.

"Are you okay?" She asks softly after a minute.

"Of course. Why?"

"Ash. Two hours ago you left your home and your family and friends. For me. That's kind of a big deal." I brush a light kiss on her forehead.

"It's worth it." She tries to move, to look at me, but I tighten my grip on her a little, keeping her where she is. "No, Meghan, it is. You are worth giving it all up for Meghan. If you weren't, I wouldn't have done it. Honestly? I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here, with you." Now, I let her move, smiling a little at the tears in her eyes. She doesn't say anything else on the topic, merely reaching up to kiss me properly. Softly. She settles back on my stomach, and is quiet for so long, that when she does speak again, I almost jump in surprise.

"What are we going to do tomorrow?" I fight the urge to shrug because I have as much an idea about our next move as she does.

"I don't know. Start the journey to your home I suppose."

"That's going to be a long journey if we can't get a plane or a train." I have no idea what either of those are, but I assume they're methods of transport that are made of metal.

"Don't worry, Meghan. I still have favours to collect, remember? We'll get there." She nods slowly, and her breath warms my skin through my shirt as she yawns. "Sleep Meghan," I whisper. "Worry about everything else tomorrow. For tonight, we're safe." Very quietly, so quiet that if the room were not silent I wouldn't have heard it, she whispers,

"I love you," before her breathing evens out and she falls asleep. And for the longest time after that, I can't get rid of the smile on my face. Not even as I embrace the darkness myself, my arms still wrapped around Meghan. Alone at last.

* * *

 **So, I'm not entirely happy with the ending of this one but I wanted to upload it today so...let me know what you think of our penultimate chapter guys. That's right, just one more deleted scene left and then Meeting Meghan is over. Please review guys, they really make my day! xxx**


	24. Deleted Scene 5

**The First Dance**

Ah, Elysium. My favourite time of the year. An endless night of watching Mab and Oberon feign niceties under the guise of music and dancing. An endless night of wishing I had been left at home, if only so I don't have to watch Rowan flirt shamelessly with weak hearted females. The carriage bounces along the track, speeding towards Arcadia. Long ago, Elysium didn't used to be a chore. For a few short years, I actually looked forward to the games and lies weaved by the high Fae. A long time ago, I had Ariella on my arm, a companion I could talk to whilst the revelry raged on in front of us. We were inevitably joined by Goodfellow, who was usually good for some entertainment, though I never told him so. His ego is big enough as it is. I sigh, staring out the window, watching the leaves change from the dark emerald of the Wyld Wood, to the lighter green of Summer. Now, the pit in my stomach tells a different story. Another night alone, watching as the two courts try not to kill each other. Trying to ignore Goodfellow as much as is possible considering he's Oberon's favourite lackey.

"What's wrong little brother?" Rowan says with a smirk, jolting me from my thoughts. "Not looking forward to Elysium this season? Here I was thinking you enjoyed glaring daggers at every female in a fifty mile radius."

"Leave it alone Rowan," Sage interrupts calmly, before I can retort. Both Rowan and I turn to look at our brother in surprise. Sage very rarely involves himself in mine and Rowan's arguments. He generally leaves us to get on with it, unless it threatens to disturb Mab. Then he intervenes so that he doesn't have to stick around to watch Mab lose her temper with us. This outburst stuns even Rowan into submission, and his gaze doesn't even leave his window. His wolf lies at his feet, eyeing the both of us with distaste. At the disapproving look from the beast, I turn my attention back to my own window, barely holding back the shudder as the last trees of the Wyld Wood give way to the open expanse of Arcadia. We've arrived.

The entire court assembles in the courtyard. It's always strange seeing the red caps and ogres organising themselves in complete silence. Everyone knows Elysium is Mab's least favourite time of the year. Having to spend an evening in the same room as Titania without killing her is a feat that no one enjoys. Elysium makes both Queen's far more volatile and no one is stupid enough to risk her wrath tonight. If anyone shows her up tonight in front of the Summer Court, you can be assured that that person will pay dearly for it once we return to Tir Na Nog. Slowly and painfully. I follow my brothers through the halls of Oberon's home, the leaves and flowers that adorn the halls being slowly covered in frost as we pass them. Mab's mood is all too apparent as an icy wind whips around us, the few petals that have escaped the frost, falling to the floor. This is going to be an…interesting evening. From down the hall, the sound of trumpets echoes as our court is announced. On cue, Mab releases some of her power, sending red caps scurrying forward in a way that is very rarely seen inside Tir Na Nog. We move forward as one, though we're still more than half way down the corridor. Whenever Elysium is held in Arcadia, the Winter Court brings as many of its subjects as possible. It's tedious bringing so many with us, despite them being on their best behaviour, but Mab insists on using whatever means available to her to try and throw the Summer rulers off during their negotiations. So, they all come. Whether I like it or not.

I release some glamour of my own; an icy indifference that should deter anyone from coming and making conversation with me tonight. I follow behind my brothers, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords, another silent message to everyone in the ballroom. _One wrong move and you're dead._ I go for a different approach. I pay no attention to the crowds in the ballroom, instead, focusing my gaze on the moon above us. _I miss you Ari._ The thought comes before I can stop it, my stomach swiftly dropping at the thought of the girl I lost. Despite the pain, imagining her up there, watching over this pompous party, brings me some comfort. We stop before the table where the nobility are seated. My brothers bow to the King and Queen of Summer, before stepping aside to allow me to do the same. Coolly, I bow low, in a move I've done thousands of times in my life.

"Lord Oberon. Lady Titania," I murmur to them. "It's a pleasure to be here this evening." I straighten, my gaze automatically sweeping down the table, looking for the smug grin that accompanies Goodfellow wherever he goes. Who is mysteriously absent tonight. Strange. He's never missed and Elysium before. I work my way down the table, my gaze landing on someone who _is_ familiar to me. The girl from the woods. The one who escaped with Goodfellow a few days ago. Our eyes meet and I can tell from the horrified look on her face, that she recognises me too. I smile at her and nod. Letting her know that I know who she is, and, hopefully letting her know that, tonight anyway, she is safe from me. I turn on my heel, and head towards the other end of the table, taking my seat next to Rowan.

* * *

I pick aimlessly at my food as the night goes on. Elysium is incredibly dull for anyone who's not Mab or Oberon. Or for anyone who's not drunk. Our main duty is to sit and glare at anyone who looks even mildly threatening, but even that doesn't require three of us. Instead, I'm left to wonder where Goodfellow has disappeared. The girl was with him the other day and she's here. It's unlike Goodfellow to go to such extremes protecting someone, and then leave them alone at Elysium. As if my thoughts have alerted everyone to her presence, Rowan elbows me in the ribs.

"Message from the Queen, little brother," he says with a grin when I turn to glare in his direction. "Someone needs to go and dance with Oberon's long lost daughter." I barely manage to conceal my surprise. His _daughter?_ Oberon has a daughter? Well, that certainly explains Goodfellow's actions the other day. And why Titania looks more pissed than usual. Rowan laughs. "You didn't know, did you? This is what you get for hiding in the woods every day little brother. The whole court has been talking about Oberon's half breed of a daughter showing up a few days ago." Instead of rising to his bait I say,

"And you can't dance with her because…"

"Because I'm busy gaining valuable knowledge from some of Oberon's less…valued subjects. Leaving it up to you to go and dance with the girl. Whoever she is."

"You don't believe she's Oberon's daughter?" Rowan scoffs.

"Oh I believe it all right. What I don't understand is why she's here tonight. But, that doesn't matter right now. What does matter is that you need to get moving, or Mab is going to lose it." I roll my eyes at him but stand anyway, knowing he has a point. Besides, I think Oberon's daughter and I need to have a little chat. I slip behind the table, heading to where the girl is sat. She's looking intently around the room for something. Or someone. Goodfellow isn't here which means the only other person she knows is…I chuckle at her. She's going to have to learn to be subtler if she's going to stay in the Nevermever.

"So this is Oberon's famous half-blood," I say, biting back the urge to laugh at her again as she whirls to face me. The blue sapphire at her neck flashing in the low light. "And to think," I continue with a smile. "I lost you that day in the forest and didn't even know what I was chasing." Her fear is almost palpable by now and she shrinks away from me, her gaze straying to her father who is deep in conversation with Mab. She's on her own. I must admit, her reaction disappoints me. I was expecting more from Oberon's daughter. I almost give up and simply ask her to dance to get it over with, but then, her shoulders straighten and her eyes which are impossibly blue, almost as blue as the neverending sea, harden.

"I warn you," she says, her tone strong and confident, "that if you try anything, my father will remove your head and stick it to a plaque on his wall." I bite back a smirk and shrug a shoulder at her instead to hide my pleasure at seeing this half human girl stand up for herself.

"There are worse things." She looks horrified and I smile at her naivety. "Don't worry, princess, I won't break the rules of Elysium. I have no intention of facing Mab's wrath should I embarrass her. That's not why I'm here."

"Then what do you want?" I bow to her, like I did to her father earlier.

"A dance." I say as I straighten.

"What? You tried to kill me!" True…

"Technically, I was trying to kill Puck. You just happened to be there. But yes, if I'd had the shot, I would have taken it."

"Then why the hell would you think I'd dance with you?"

"That was then," I tell her, unconcerned with her outburst. "This is now. And it's tradition in Elysium that a son and daughter of opposite territories dance with each other, to demonstrate the goodwill between courts." Of course, normally it's a wealthy family from each court who performs the tradition, not the nobility but, that's only because none of Oberon's offspring have ever ventured into the Nevernever before.

"Well it's a stupid tradition," she says, crossing her arms and glaring at me rather impressively. "And you can forget it. I'm not going anywhere with you." I raise an eyebrow at her defiance. Not many would dare to refuse after being told it was tradition.

"Would you insult my monarch, Queen Mab, by refusing? She would take it very personally, and blame Oberon for the offence. And Mab can hold a grudge for a very long time." Ah, now I had her. I could see it in her face. She really doesn't want to dance with me, but she's smart enough to not want to risk the wrath of the courts.

"So, you're saying you're not giving me a choice." She really doesn't want to do this.

"There is always a choice." I hold out my hand. "I will not force you. I only follow the orders of my queen. But know that the rest of the court is expecting us." The mere thought of both courts waiting for this is enough to remind me why I dislike Elysium so much. Never-ending political games. "And I promise to be a perfect gentleman until the night is done. You have my word."

"Dammit," she mutters, wrapping her arms around herself. _She looks…young._ The thought passes through my mind unbidden, but once it's there I can't dislodge it. Sat like that, the defiant young girl from a moment before is gone, replaced instead by a scared child. It unnerves me slightly. She's Oberon's daughter, princess of Summer. She shouldn't look like this. "I'll just embarrass you anyway," she continues. "I can't dance." I can't stop my own amusement leaking into my voice as I counter her concerns. She really is like a child, with no idea the power she possesses'.

"You're Oberon's blood. Of course you can dance," I tell her. We wait a moment longer, my hand still outstretched, still waiting for her to take it. Of course, I could walk away. No one is expecting me to do this other than Rowan. But something about this half-human intrigues me. I want to spend some time with her. See what she knows, find out what she's doing here in the Nevernever. Her fingers lightly dance across my palm as she rests her hand in my outstretched one and I offer her a faint smile as I move her hand to my arm, my skin tingling from the contact. I lead her down from the table, when her grip on my arm tightens.

"I can't do this," she mutters. "Let me go. I think I'm going to be sick."

"You'll be fine," I retort, although there is a lingering doubt in my mind. She can't afford to be saying those things out loud, not here, in the middle of the dance floor. It's a weakness that anyone could exploit. We stop in front of the rulers and I tighten my own grip on her hand, hoping that it'll somehow reassure her. "Just follow my lead," I tell her, before bowing to Oberon once more. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her curtsy to her father, who gives us both a solemn nod. I straighten and turn to face her, taking one of her hands in my own and placing the other on my shoulder. When the music starts I take a step forward, and bite back a chuckle as she almost trips trying to copy the movement. I find myself watching her, as we slowly waltz round the room. Her ash blonde hair has been curled and pinned to her head, the pins sparkling as we turn, showing off her long neck. Her silver dress shows off her figure and giving her an almost ethereal quality. She's been transformed from the human girl clutching Puck as he raced through the woods, into a true princess. For the first time since Ariella died, there's a faint trickle of…something, filtering through me as I watch her bite her lips in concentration. I force myself to focus on her movements, rather than her appearance; a much less dangerous occupation. I can't hold back the chuckle as I watch her struggle.

"Stop thinking," I tell her, pulling her into a spin that brings her to my chest, breathing in the rose and honeysuckle scent of her. I force myself to concentrate on what I was telling her. "The audience doesn't matter. The steps don't matter. Just close your eyes and listen to the music."

"Easy for you to say," she growls at me. Before she can say anything else, I spin her again, faster this time, forcing her to do as I say. When she opens her eyes again, she seems calmer, and the difference in her dancing is immediately noticeable.

"So," she says. "You're Queen Mab's son, right?"

"I think we've established that, yes." I reply. I'm not sure whether to be amused or concerned by her question.

"Does she like to…collect things?" Concern it is. She hurries on before I can say anything. "Humans, I mean? Does she have a lot of humans in her court?"

"A few," I say, spinning her again. This time, there's no stumbling at all, she's graceful and elegant and she's finally dancing like the royalty she is. "Mab usually gets bored with mortals after a few years. She either releases them or turns them into something more interesting, depending on her mood. Why?"

"Does she have a little boy in her court?" She asks quickly. "Four years old, curly brown hair, blue eyes? Quiet most of the time?" Ah, a child she knows is missing. Now her sudden presence here makes more sense. I can't think of anyone who would willingly come into the Nevernever for anyone, child or no. It's a suicide mission if you don't know what you're doing.

"I don't know," I tell her honestly. The despair that crosses her face makes me wish I could give her a different answer. For a heartbeat, I wonder what she looks like when she smiles. "I haven't been to court lately. Even if I had, I cannot keep track of all the mortals the queen acquires and releases over the years."

"Oh," she mutters, lowering her eyes. "Well, if you're not in court, where are you, then?" I can't stop the smile that crosses my lips at the memory of the chase a few days ago.

"The wyldwood," I tell her. "Hunting. I rarely let my prey escape, so be grateful Puck is such a coward." She opens her mouth to say something, but I pull her close, so I can whisper in her ear. "Although, I am happy I didn't kill you then. I told you a daughter of Oberon could dance." I pull back in time to see the realisation dawn on her face. She'd completely forgotten about the music and she'd done her court proud. I pull her into one final spin, bringing her back to my chest. She locks her eyes with mine and I'm struck once more by just how blue her eyes are. They sparkle just as much as the sapphire on her neck. That trickle of feeling that had started at the beginning of the dance, nudges open a little more. She is beautiful. More than that though, she's pure. Pure in a way that no one in Tir Na Nog is. Not since Ariella died. This girl is intriguing in more ways that one and, for the first time in centuries, I almost want to see what would happen if I indulged myself, and let myself get to know her a little more. I offer her a small smile, wanting to see if she'd give me one back…when a scream shatters the silence.

I release Meghan and step away, clamping down on what I thought I wanted firmly. Another scream echoed from the hall as the bramble doorway I'd come through earlier shakes wildly. As one, the fey begin shouting at one another, pushing each other out of the way, even as Oberon shouts for order. For a moment, just one moment, everyone freezes. The recognition of an ancient ruler pulling rank. The silence gives the beast outside enough time to claw its way through the brambles, revealing itself.

A chimera.

A bloody mess of a chimera. The guards had obviously challenged it on its way here, but, if the chewed satyr lying in its mouth is anything to go by, it definitely wasn't enough to stop it. Someone in the crowd screams as the satyr is dropped to the floor with a thud and that's all it takes for chaos to reign. The chimera lets out an almighty roar, catching a red cap in its jaw, disembowelling it. A troll is its next target, though it gives the chimera a fight, grabbing the lions throat and holding it away. But, the dragon comes down and takes the troll out anyway. It roars again, it's gaze focusing on something behind me for a moment before charging towards it. I whirl around to see who the chimera's next victim is going to be and my heart stops.

Oberon's daughter. Still frozen on the stage behind me, is the chimera's next victim. For a second, the memory of Ariella lying in my arms, blood soaking through my shirt flashes through my mind and I race towards the summer princess without thinking. I don't care if she's my enemy. I don't care that she shouldn't even be at Elysium, let alone in the Nevernever. I can't let her die. Especially not in such a gruesome way. I watch the chimera pounce and will myself to go faster. I launch myself at her, pushing her out of the way and holding my sword out in front of me seconds before the chimera lands. The creature roars, angry that someone has gotten in between it and its prey, but I jump out of the way before I end up like the red cap. The frozen edge of my sword catches the beasts paw and I have to roll out of the way quickly before it can catch me. It whirls to face me once more, and I fling ice shards at it hoping they'll do something to injure the beast. Behind me, I can hear Oberon ordering the knights to join the fight. _Well, it's about time._ I can't help but think as I dodge another attack. With more fighters, it's not long before we're pushing the chimera back, though it doesn't go down without a fight, spewing fiery hot smoke at the fey in front of it, forcing them back. Behind me, a loud crack echoes through the room, and it doesn't take long to realise Oberon has joined the fight; thick roots covered in thorns, crawling over the chimera, pinning it in place. As the fey advance once more, Meghan's shout is drowned out to everyone but me. I turn to see the dragon lift its head towards the Summer King and, without thinking, I dodge the beast's claws and bring my sword down through the dragons neck in one neat blow. I jump down from the body, stepping away from the still writhing head of the dragon. Next to me, a troll manages to do ram it's spear through the lion's head, and three redcaps brave the masses to take on the goat.

My breathe come out in loud gasps, even as I wipe my blade on my ruined clothes.

"Oberon!" I wince as Mab's shriek echoes across what's left of the ballroom. "How dare you! How dare you set this monster on us during Elysium, when we come to you under the banner of trust! You've broken the covenant, and I will not forgive this heresy!"

"You dare?" Titania says, lightning crackling overhead as she gets to her feet. Here we go. Having Mab and Titania fight it out is all we need. "You dare accuse us of summoning this creature? This is obviously the work of the Unseelie Court to weaken us in our own home!" Slowly, the fey around me begin to mutter amongst themselves, siding with their own monarch as to who summoned the creature. I tune them all out, my eyes combing the carnage for her. She's still lying where I shoved her, looking dazed and more than a little terrified. I don't blame her. I start to make my way over to her, though I know I shouldn't. Especially with war now brewing between the courts. Yet, seeing her lying there reminds me so much of Ariella that I can't help myself. I watch with narrowed eyes as a redcap catches her scent and follows her around the stage. By the time I get there, I catch only the last bit of the conversation. It's all I need to hear.

"Monster flesh is bitter, not like sweet young humans. I just want a nibble. Maybe just a finger." I roll my eyes. Redcaps have a one track mind. Never mind that Mab is ready to start a war. Never mind we've been accused of summoning a chimera to Elysium. No, the redcaps are always hungry. This one is no different.

"Back off," I snap. "We're in enough trouble without you eating Oberon's daughter. Get out of here." The redcap sneers at me but hurries off. I sigh. Honestly, why we keep the things around…I turn back to the girl, scanning her dress, taking in the blood stains now adorning the silver fabric.

"Are you hurt?" I ask her wearily. She shakes her head no.

"You saved my life," she murmurs. Yes, I did. And in any other circumstance, that would have ended badly for the both of us. A flicker of worry clouds her eyes. "I…I'm not bound to you or anything like that, am I?" She asks, and I raise an eyebrow at her. "No life debt, or having to become your wife, right?"

"Not unless our sires made a deal without our knowledge." I glance back at the rulers, watching as Oberon tries in vain to reign his wife in. "And I'd say any contracts they made are officially broken now. This will probably mean war."

"War?" She murmurs, as snow begins to fall, a payoff from Mab's wrath. "What will happen then?" I step closer to her, brushing a curl back from her face gently. I lean in close once more so I can whisper in her ear,

"I'll kill you." I pull away from her and head over to join my brothers at the table. I don't look back at the half human summer princess. But that doesn't mean my mind stops replaying the moment the chimera launched itself at her. Whatever reason she's here, for whoever she's looking for, I can't help but wish, just for a moment, that we weren't part of opposing courts. That I could get to know her. That I could help her. And that is something I haven't felt in a very long time. The icy mask of indifference is second nature to me now, but I pause for a moment to make sure that it's still intact. The half human summer princess has captured my attention in a way that no one else has managed in centuries. We've danced together _once!_ And yet, now that I've met her, I don't want to walk away. I follow Mab as she stalks out of the room, still vowing vengeance on Summer, and I have to fight every instinct not to turn back and look at her. The humid air hits me as I begin to realise exactly what's happening to me.

One thing's for certain. I'm in so much trouble.

* * *

 **This is it. The final chapter of Meeting Meghan! I thought it would be nice to end this fic right back at the beginning, where Ash really did meet Meghan for the first time. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you so much for reading this fic and reviewing it and thank you for giving me the scenes to write - everything apart from these deleted scenes were chosen by you so thank you for doing that. I'm probably not going to be writing anything else for a few weeks - definitely not anything as long as this! Thank you again for all of your support, it really does mean the world to me! Let me know what you think about this final scene and tell me what your favourite chapter has been in Meeting Meghan, I'd love to know. xxx**


	25. IMPORTANT NOTE

**IMPORTANT NOTE:**

It has been brought to my attention that someone on has been uploading one my stories and claiming it as their own. This is not okay and the person who has done this to me has been reported. All writers work so hard on these stories so that other people can enjoy them – it is not okay for someone to then take that story and claim it as their own. If you enjoy our stories – then favourite them or leave a review letting us know. Do not simply take them for your own.

The characters may not belong to us but the stories and scenarios that we create using them do. This is me stating right now **DO NOT COPY AND PASTE ANY OF MY STORIES AND CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.** It does not matter if you change the name of the OC but use everything else. **THIS IS STILL PLAGARISM AND YOU WILL BE REPORTED.**

I write these stories for other people to enjoy them and because I enjoy writing them. I don't want to stop doing that because of one person; but I know how much time and effort goes into these stories, they truly are a labour of love.

I hate that I am even having to write this note, as all I have received from this site is wonderful reviews from people but I need to protect my stories and my work. If you see anyone uploading someone's work and claiming it as their own then please report them and then PM the original author to let them know. To report someone for this, go to the bottom of the chapter page and click the button that says ' **Actions** ' and then ' **Report Abuse'**. The violation in this case is that the work is ' **Not the property of the uploading writer.** ' In the comments box, tell that this author is not the owner of this work and state who the work belongs to.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed my stories and been so kind. Please know this is nothing against any of you - it simply needs stating now that my own works are being subjected to plagiarism.


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